The Wallflowers
by Hades'Queen
Summary: The books from the point of view of Tracey Davis, starting from first year. May be romance and pairings later, but none as of yet. Will feature various characters, but mostly concentrating on Slytherins. Part of the Different Perspective Challenge.
1. Book 1, Chapter 1: Somebody Ran

**Disclaimer:** I do not own anything you recognize. This is part of the "Different Perspective Challenge" by _Luck O' The Irish Seamione. _Also, the lyric italicized at the end of the first chapter is by The Beatles from their song "She's Leaving Home."

**A/n:** As I said this is for the "Different Perspective Challenge" which is a massive undertaking because it's all the Potter books from the Perspective of a different character. I chose Tracey Davis, a Slytherin girl in Harry's year though she is never mentioned by name in the book, she was just on one of J.K. Rowling's class list for his year. At the beginning of each chapter will be a set of lyrics, followed by the song and artist.

**~X~x~X~**

**The Wallflowers **

**~X~x~X~**

**Book 1: Sorcerer's Stone**

**Chapter 1:**

**Once Upon A Time Somebody Ran, Somebody Ran Away Saying 'Fast As I Can, I've Got To Go... Got To Go.' Once Upon A Time, We Fell Apart. You're Holding In Your Hands The Two Halves of My Heart.  
**_(Princess of China- Coldplay)_

September first, Tracey Davis lay in bed awake, staring up at the ceiling. She'd been unable to fall asleep during the night, due to her excitement. Her large, olive-colored eyes stared up at the ceiling, as the rising sun filtered through her bedroom window. Her dark-brown hair, which was for the most part fell in wavy layers a few inches past her shoulders, was slightly mussed. However, Tracey was unconcerned with this.

She'd been looking forward to this day for as long as she could remember and nothing could dampen the excitement she felt that she'd finally get away from the run-down and depressing neighborhood she lived in. However, as much as she was looking forward to attending Hogwarts, she was also a bit apprehensive.

She'd never really been away from her mother, however, she doubted very much she'd be homesick. After all, she and her mother hardly had much of a relationship, as since her father abandoned them when she was nine, her mother had withdrawn into her work and left Tracey mostly to herself. Which, Tracey supposed that she was fine with as it wasn't too different from how things had been when her father had been around.

No... what she was mostly concerned about wast the people she'd be attending school with. Would they be more advanced than she was? Would they like her? Would she fit in anywhere?

For as long as she could remember, Tracey never really fit in. The fact that she knew she was a witch and different from the people she went to primary school with, made her mostly keep to herself. The only friends she ever really had, were those in her beloved stories and books in general. She had voraciously read for years whatever she could get her hands on. Even though most of those books belonged to her mother and she often struggled through the material that she was trying to get through.

Sighing, Tracey got out of bed and headed to the bathroom, hopping in for a quick shower. After she was all freshened up and dressed, she headed down the stairs and walked to the kitchen ignoring the creak her bare feet made on the steps.

The kitchen was decently sized, with an island at its center. No table for eating, as she or her mother usually ate on stools at the kitchen island instead, and being as it was just the two of them... well there was no point having a table. However, on spotting the island, Tracey shook her head.

He mother was slumped over asleep, her face buried amongst several sheets and scrolls of parchment. Noticing a few ink stains on her mother's face and fingers, Tracey figured her mother fell asleep while working. Shaking her head once more, she walked around her mother and carefully set about waking her. Knowing her mother, she'd jump out of the stool and fall to the floor if she woke her too suddenly.

"Mum," Tracey said softly, standing beside the tall, slender woman with long, wavy brown hair that fell all the way to her hips; Tracey had always felt this the length was rather impractical and more a nuisance than anything, but it was her mother's only vanity. "Mum," Tracey said, this time a little louder, but not by much. A pair of almost yellow eyes shot open and her mother sat up straight, groaning as she did so when her back and neck popped. Tracey frowned, a look of concern crossing her small, pale features. "What time did you go to sleep?"

Regina Davis nee Rookwood straightened in her seat and blinked slowly the confusion of waking away. "Tracey," she deadpanned. "I'm not sure, darling. What are you doing up at this hour? It's summer, usually you sleep in until high noon or later."

"Mother, it's September First. I start at Hogwarts today. Don't you remember?" Tracey asked her mother as a look of comprehension entered her mother's eyes as she nodded her head slowly.

"Ah yes, of course. Sorry darling," her mother stated, yawning and stretching her long limbs as she did so. Tracey sighed in exasperation.

"You should go up and shower. You have ink stains all over your face. I'll make breakfast for us while you're at it," Tracey stated imperiously, grabbing her mother by the arm and pulling her up on her feet before gently pushing her towards the kitchen doorway. For a few minutes, she lingered in the threshold and watched as her mother glided away, her long, forrest green robes trailing after her. Once her mother was out a sight, she waited longer for the tell-tale creak of the old stairs and the sounds of rushing water through pipes before she heard the spray of the shower.

Nodding to herself, Tracey turned around and with resignation, shoved her mothers work to one side of the island counter, before setting about making a light breakfast. Neither she nor her mother had ever been morning people, much less the type to eat breakfast.

Tracey guessed it was from her mother from which she got that. One of the only things she was sure, as she didn't have the Rookwood coloring about her. Nor were her features so narrow. While she was dainty, and even pretty, Tracey was sure she must look much more like her father. A fact she tried hard not to resent, despite the fact that she hated the man and did not want to be reminded of him.

It wouldn't' do after all, to hate herself because of _him_. Besides, it was bad enough to be a Rookwood.

Even at eleven, Tracey was not ignorant of her family history. Her mother was a pureblood witch, and had been disowned for marrying her father who was a muggle. However, her mother hadn't cared because she hated her family, especially her brother, Augustus.

The man, who was technically her uncle, was also a Death Eater and her mother had told her tales about her childhood, growing up in a manor with a psychopath. When her mother had turned fourteen, she shot a particularly nasty hex at her elder brother, who at the time had been eighteen. From Tracey's understanding, Augustus had been permanently scarred for life with pockmarks on his visage. Her mother never told her why she had hexed him, but Tracey assumed it was for something extremely unpleasant as her mother was not a particularly violent person.

However, even then he had not ceased to try to make her mother's life hell. When her mother started working as an Unspeakable at the Ministry, her uncle had changed departments and started working in the Department of Mysteries as well. All to torture her mother. Luckily, he'd been arrested when she was a year old and Tracey had never had to actually meet him.

Tracey didn't want to be a Rookwood. As much as she hated her father, she hated the idea of being related to a Death Eater even more. Though, nothing in her life thus far had make her particularly fond of most muggles, she didn't hate them. She didn't think they were stupid, or useless, or another specie.

Besides that, she really liked their forms of entertainment. She thought television and films were ingenious. And she loved their music. She thought it was a bit mind-boggling how they managed to get airplanes to stay in the air and fly without magic.

Shaking her head of these thoughts, Tracey turned to work on breakfast and concentrated on that. She made a few pieces of toast, pulling out the marmalade from a cupboard and grabbing utensils from a drawer before heading to the refrigerator and pulling out a carton of juice. She poured out two glasses before placing the juice back, and turning to the bread which popped out from the toaster. She quickly spread marmalade on them, and set them in separate plates, two apiece before carefully moving it all to the island.

She sat and ate slowly, not bothering to wait for her mother and instead reaching for some of the scrolls and looking through what her mother was working on now. She furrowed her brow as she found herself looking at a dizzying array of numbers and equations. _Arithmancy_, she thought dryly. She'd never really cared for it much; numbers and math never being a strong suit of hers.

Absently, she munched on her toast as she pushed the parchment away and picked up another. However, it took her several minutes to come across something she might recognize. However, before she could read anything, a sound startled her as her mother stepped back into the room looking considerably fresh-faced and with all her long hair tied up in a complicated bun.

"How many times do I have to tell you not to look at my work! It's classified!" her mother snapped at her, snatching the parchment from her hand and placing it with the others. Tracey shrugged and swallowed the food in her mouth.

"If you didn't want me to look, you shouldn't leave it lying around. You know I'm curious," Tracey responded, grabbing a glass of juice and taking a sip from it.

Her mother sighed, but flashed her a tired smile. "I know you are, pet. But you know, curiosity killed the cat."

"Well then it's a good thing I'm not a feline and human instead," Tracey responded, giving her mother a cheeky smile before continuing to eat.

Her mother chortled as she shook her head and sat. Placing her elbow on the table, she placed her chin her hand and tilted her head to look at her daughter. Reaching out, she pushed a strand of dark brown hair out of her daughter's eyes; her hair was not quite the mahogany brown of her mother's. "What am I going to do without you, Tracey?" her mother asked, her eyes a bit shiny.

Tracey shrugged, swallowing her bite of toast and wiping crumbs from her hands as she finished. "You'll be fine, it's only until December. I'll be back before you know it," Tracey responded, her gaze darkening for a moment, knowing it was true. Tracey knew, despite the fact that her mother was distant, that her mother loved her. However, she'd always been aware that with her mother, her work usually came first. She was sure if Tracey didn't remind her mother of her presence daily, her mother might just forget about her. "Finish your breakfast. I'll be down in a bit. Want to make sure I didn't forget to pack anything."

With that, Tracey rose from the table and walked out of the kitchen and into the living room. It's walls were filled with books, stacked in bookcases that covered almost every inch of spare wall. However, she paused and looked at the large fireplace. Over the mantle, there were a few pictures, mostly of herself and some with her mother.

There were very few pictures, five in all. She recalled that there used to be a lot more. Most of them had been removed when her father left. Tracey felt a small tug at her heart which had remained broken and incomplete since that day, as much as she hated to acknowledge it.

He had left and it had broken her heart. She could still recall crying for days after... it was the only thing she remembered from those days after. She'd only stopped crying when her mother had had enough and smacked her across the cheek, yelling at her and telling her that crying never solved anything. Her heart had broken for a second time that day, when her mother had struck her.

Tracey had never been hit before. It had shocked her momentarily, before Tracey recalled feeling hatred entering her, flushing into every nerve she had. Her mother didn't look guilty. She looked like a shell. She was empty inside. Tracey knew this, because she could feel that.

And then, Tracey lost it.

"_It's all YOUR fault! He left because of you! Because you're cold and you don't feel anything! I hate you! I wish he had taken me with him and far away from you!"_ she recalled yelling and for the first time in her small life, she felt something inside her mother break. The yellow eyes, which had always been a bit frightful to look on, seemed to melt into molten gold as they filled with tears. And Tracey knew for certain then than what she'd ever known before; that her mother wasn't cold. No, her mother was afraid of something inside of her. That something which made her strike at Tracey and feel nothing after. Her mother kept her distance, because she was afraid of hurting Tracey; afraid of damaging her as she had been damaged.

Since then, everything seemed worse for a time, but it all fell into place. And despite the growing rage, there was a sense of clarity. She could now understand her mother, who'd always been a little distant before.

Complex as her mother was, Tracey could now understand her a little. She could look past the woman's defenses and see the weariness and fear within. Tracey did what she could to assuage her mother's fears, to show her mother that she'd never truly hurt Tracey if she got too close, but nothing she did could really accomplish it. Because they were both broken. Her mother beyond repair and Tracey... Tracey still had hope that she could be whole again, perhaps in the future. She was not so lost.

Shaking her head, and drawing her gaze away from the mantle, Tracey headed for the stairs. Taking them slowly, she ran her hand along the railing and stared at it. She hummed to herself as she continued the steady climb. _She's leaving home, after living alone, for so many years..._

**TBC...**


	2. Book 1, Chapter 2: Loneliness Be Over?

**~X~x~X~**

**The Wallflowers **

**~X~x~X~**

**Book 1: Sorcerer's Stone**

**Chapter 2:**

**When Will Loneliness Be Over? Life Will Flash Before My Eyes, So Scattered And Lost._  
_**_(Map Of The Problematique- Muse)_

Hours later, Tracey found herself on Platform Nine and Three-Quarters, walking alongside her mother who was pulling her trunk along for her. Her green eyes were wide, trying to take everything in and not be overwhelmed by it. She was surrounded by what felt like chaos, but an exciting, benevolent sort that completely filled her up and left her insides thrumming, as though vibrating.

Everywhere she turned there were students, and parents or relatives and carts and trunks and cages with owls or cats. Not to mention the train, with it's red engine. The noise level alone was astonishing and though not usually one to care very much for noise, Tracey couldn't help feeling warmed by it. Surely with so many people about, the would be enough intelligent people that she'd able to make _some_ friends.

"Well I suppose we should get your things onto the train," her mother stated as she came to a stop, causing Tracey to stop as well while taking in her immediate surroundings. Her eyes were soon arrested by a boy who stood a few feet away, with a rather much older, bespectacled man holding onto the boy's arm and speaking very close to the boy's face.

Her brow furrowed as she studied the pale, tall boy with mousy-brown hair and watery-grey eyes. As she watched the boy attempting not to cringe away from whom she assumed was his father, she felt a distinct pressure on her chest, almost as though someone were trying to crush her chest. Tracey remained calm as she tried to ignore the constriction in her chest and continued to watch the pale boy, even as one of her hands moved to hover over her heart. She felt distinctly sorry for him, sure that the boy's father was berating him and knowing with no uncertainty that the boy feared this man.

As she turned to look at the man, she shivered as she looked at the old, sharp, vulture-like face. She couldn't really say she was surprised the boy was afraid of this man. Turning her gaze back to the boy, who she was sure was her own age, she felt an overwhelming sense of pity for him. And as his gaze lifted and met her own, she couldn't help the pain in her chest becoming more uncomfortable. _His eyes, they're so empty_, she thought as dispassionately as she could muster.

"Tracey... are you listening to me?"

Tracey drew her eyes slowly away from the unfortunate boy and looked up at her mother, lowering her hand at the same time. "I'm sorry, what did you say?"

"I said that I'll get your trunk as we'll find you a compartment-"

"That's all right mother, I will do it myself. You've already placed a feather-light charm on my trunk, I can move my things myself and remove the charm once I'm in school. There is really no need for you to baby me," Tracey explained calmly, having always been independent; though she'd never had much of a choice in the matter. "Besides, I know you need to get to work," Tracey went on, knowing how anxious her mother must be about the fact that she was still not at work and not wanting her mother's feelings to be hurt that she didn't want her help.

Her mother bit on her lip momentarily before casting a look around the busy station. "Tracey, it would really be- are you sure?"

"Yes mother, you can go," Tracey said with a smile before wrapping her mother in a brief hug before pulling away as she felt her mother stiffen in her embrace. Her mother never could do well with people touching her or invading her personal space, not even Tracey. "I will see you over Christmas hols."

"Very well. Do take care, Tracey. Mind your manners, and please behave well. I don't want any letters from your Professor's," her mother said sternly, looking down at her with sharp yellow eyes that reminded Tracey of owls, eagles and hawks. "Don't doubt for a second that I will send you a Howler if you do step out of line."

"Mother, when have my teacher's ever written home about me?" Tracey asked with a roll of her eyes.

"Don't think during parent/teacher conferences that your teachers haven't complained to me about you reading books during their classes that do not pertain to their lessons, or falling asleep in class, or things you have said or done to your fellow classmates. Your mathematics grades were always appalling. I expect better form you, Tracey," her mother chastised.

_Well it's a good thing I won't have to deal with math much at Hogwarts, _Tracey thought dryly to herself as she grabbed her trunk. She didn't even dignify with a reply her conduct in concern with other students. It wasn't her fault that she had no patience for stupid people and bullies.

However, she merely nodded in response, thinking it was easier just to go along with whatever it was her mother was telling her than to argue with her on any of the points she raised. Especially as she was already rather anxious to get on the train. It would only be a matter of time before the train departed, as the Hogwarts Express always departed at exactly eleven form what her mother had told her.

"Yes, mother. I'll see you soon. I'll try to write," Tracey added finally even though she highly doubted she would write or that her mother would pay very much note to whatever it was she said.

Her mother nodded absently and patted her shoulder as she started to look about. "Yes darling, please do," her mother stated, though lacking any sincerity. Tracey tried not to feel disappointed at that and merely nodded. After all, she had expected that. Her mother's general apathy was really nothing new.

"Well bye then," Tracey stated before turning around and making her feet carry her away. She felt at least glad that she wouldn't be one of those kids that got homesick and cried themselves to sleep the first few days; she didn't really have a warm and loving home to miss.

**XxX**

Once Tracey got herself settled in an empty compartment, she sat down and pulled out her wand to take a look at it. Since she got it at Diagon Alley, she couldn't help being fascinated by it.

It was made of silver lime wood, thirteen inches with a dragon heart-string core. Mr. Ollivander said it was reasonably rigid, whatever that meant.

It had taken her what felt like an eternity to come across it. She must've tried over fifty wands before she came across the one that was meant for her. She remembered Mr. Ollivander distinctly muttering to himself, "_Tricky, tricky, perhaps one of my rarities," _before heading all the way to the back, pulling out a box and striding back over. Tracey was sure there must've been over a centuries worth of dust covering the box, and grimaced when Mr. Ollivander blew the dust off, creating a cloud of it before him.

When he held the wand out to her, Tracey took it defeatedly, by that time exhausted from trying so many wands. She'd almost given up hope, however the second her hands curled around the ornate handle, she felt warmth seep into her fingertips and spread through her whole being. Immediately her eyes widened and she gripped the wand tighter in her hand, already sure that this was the one for her and unwilling to let it go.

"_Fascinating! Incredible!"_ Mr. Ollivander had exclaimed, causing Tracey to look up at him as he went on to tell her the particulars of her wand. _"Silver lime... I don't believe I've ever sold a silver lime wand. They are especially suited to Seers and Legilimens. The magic you perform may prove to be very interesting."_

Tracey had merely raised a skeptical brow at this, and shrugged off the comment as her mother paid for the wand. However, it was hard to forget the words.

She'd wanted to ask her mother what a Legilimens was supposed to be, or what she knew about Seers, though she highly doubted she was a Seer. She knew enough to know that that kind of thing was hereditary and as far as she knew, no one in her family was a Seer. It wasn't like being a Metamorphmagus, which happened at random, or like becoming an Animagus, which could only be acquired by talent, power and study.

However, her mother couldn't be bothered to explain it to her. She thought the trip to Diagon Alley a waste of her time, and as soon as they were home, her mother took off for the Ministry for work.

Tracey could guess at what a Legilimens was. After all _legens _in latin, meant a reader, and she knew the _mens_ in latin meant mind. Therefore she inferred that a Legilimens was someone with the ability to "read minds". Although, somehow she thought the idea of reading the mind as it if were a book quite silly. After all, she was more than aware that the mind was a very complex, layered thing.

She sighed as she twirled her wand in her fingers and thought. She'd have to go to the library at the earliest opportunity once in school to look into it, and see if it was possible that she was a Legilimens. Perhaps that would explain how she knew things about people with certainty, things she should have no way of knowing. Or why sometimes she felt emotions or things that she was quite sure had nothing to do with her... like they weren't hers. Which made no sense to her, and sometimes made her think that she was crazy. However, she was quite certain that she wasn't. Or at least if she was crazy, it was a healthy amount of crazy.

The door of her compartment creeping open caused Tracey to slowly look away from her wand and to the door. There, standing in the doorway was a girl with long pale blonde hair that fell in lose curls down to her hips. The girl had a very pretty face, with plump lips the color of red coral and eyes like warm honey.

"Hello, my name is Daphne Greengrass. Do you mind if I sit with you?" Daphne Greengrass stated with a confident but modest smile, one small, delicate hand grasping onto the door.

Tracey stared at the other girl critically for a moment. She'd never much liked girls her own age, or well children her age in general. However, she was more apprehensive towards her own gender than she was of the opposite. Personally she found most boys to be stupid and intolerable, but somehow easier to manage than girls.

This girl was far too pretty, she thought. She looked like a little porcelain doll with her perfect porcelain skin and soft curls of long hair. Tracey thought the blonde girl must be her own age, as she seemed to be a few inches shorter than Tracey was.

Daphne Greengrass managed not to squirm and remained composed as the girl with sharp, olive eyes examined her like she was a reaction to an experiment. After a long moment, the dark-haired girl nodded her head slowly. Daphne flashed a brilliant smile, showing off her perfectly straight and white teeth, which were so well proportioned, it was difficult for Tracey to keep herself from grimacing. _No one should be that perfect,_ Tracey thought.

"Thank you," Daphne stated, stepping in and closing the compartment door before sitting down opposite of Tracey and looking at her expectantly. Noticing this, Tracey stowed her wand away in her skirt pocket, which had an undetectable extension charm like all the pockets on all her clothes.

"My name is Tracey Davis," Tracey informed the other girl, knowing that it was what the other girl was expecting.

Daphne nodded at this vigorously. "Are you a first year, Tracey?" Tracey merely nodded her head. "Me too. Do you know what House you want to be in?"

Tracey merely shrugged her shoulders. "Either Ravenclaw or Slytherin would be acceptable. What about you?"

"I feel the same, I think I'd just die if I were sorted into Hufflepuff, wouldn't you?" Daphne asked, giggling. Once more, Tracey had to keep her facial features blank as she stared at the slender girl in front of her. _Even her laugh is perfect,_ Tracey thought irritably. It was beginning to seem ridiculous.

However, she didn't exactly disagree with Daphne's comment. She knew that Hufflepuff was supposed to be the house for the hard-working and those who were kind and loyal. However, that was simply not the house for her. Tracey had never been particularly hard-working. While she was by no means stupid, she never cared much about killing herself over her school work. And she'd never really had any friends to test out her loyalty. As for kindness, she knew for a fact that was not a quality she had in spades, if she even had it at all.

"I think if that were to happen, I'd write to my mother and request to be taken out of school and transferred elsewhere," Tracey commented, knowing it was what would be expected of her. Though she found it melodramatic for her and wasn't true. "But I doubt that will happen. I'm not a Hufflepuff. I _know_ that."

Daphne once more smiled, her eyes sparkling. "You're quite confident in that, aren't you?" Daphne asked, tilting her head to the side with a teasing smile. "But I can see that."

Tracey wasn't sure if that was meant to be a compliment, or an insult. However, she was saved having to respond when the compartment door once more opened. "DAPHNE! I've been looking for you everywhere!"

Tracey grimaced at the loud brunette who had just intruded in on them. Tracey took in the girl with dark-brown hair like hers, however, this girl had short and very straight hair that only reached her chin. She also had bangs, and unlike Daphne, she wasn't particularly pretty. Her eyes were also hard and a murky brown color. Tracey knew immediately that she did not like this loud and bossy girl.

"Pansy, it's good to see you too," Daphne smiled, standing up to greet Pansy with a one-armed hug. Tracey rolled her eyes at the pair of girls, now aware with what she was dealing with. Pansy and Daphne were clearly Purebloods and part of what they undoubtedly considered to be higher society. She recognized it in the way the two spoke to each other, and that hug they shared. It was cold, and tinged on both sides with fake smiles that tried to conceal the frigid iciness beneath. They barely touched as they hugged, holding themselves far apart as they did so, and disengaging at the nearest opportunity.

"And who is your _friend_," the girl Pansy said as she pulled away from Daphne and turned an almost disdainful gaze at the other girl in the compartment. Her gaze roved over Tracey's outfit, making Tracey suddenly aware of the fact that she was wearing a grey, muggle dress while Pansy and Daphne were both in summer robes; the robes being short-sleeved and reaching down to their skinny calves.

Tracey crossed her arms over her small chest. Her dress was grey, with short sleeves and buttons up the front along with a collar. The skirt of the dress she wore had pockets, the hem of the skirt coming down to an inch or so above her knee. She was wearing white socks that came up to just above her knee and black mary-janes.

"This is Tracey Davis. Tracey, this is my friend Pansy Parkinson, we've been friends since we were toddlers," Daphne explained. Tracey merely nodded, though she was not interested. Somehow she felt, one must know Pansy since they were too young to know any better in order to be able to make friends with her. Already she got the distinct impression that Pansy was a little snot, who was too stupid to be bothered with.

"Davis? What kind of name is that? I don't know any Purebloods with that name," Pansy smirked. Tracey merely raised a brow and looked at Daphne who was blushing. Tracey could feel Daphne's embarrassment at her friends rudeness rolling off her in waves. _Clearly Pansy hasn't the class that Pureblood's pride themselves on,_ Tracey thought dryly,_ she doesn't know how to be subtle with her insults._

"As far as I know, there aren't any," Tracey commented dismissively with a shrug of her shoulders.

"So what, are you a mudblood?" Pansy asked with disgust.

"If she were a mudblood, she wouldn't know anything about Pureblood's," another voice piped in, causing all the girls to look at the compartment door where a tall, lean boy was standing, leaning against the doorframe, his trunk behind him.

Tracey recognized him as the boy she had seen earlier on the platform being berated by this father. He seemed more relaxed now she noted as her eyes raked over him. Now that they were standing closer and she could see him more clearly, she found that he was... quite cute actually. Perhaps not in the traditional sense, as he stooped quite a bit and he was very gangly, but he was.

"And who are you?" Pansy asked snidely, clearly annoyed someone butted into their conversation.

"Theodore Nott," at this, an apprehensive look crossed the faces of both Daphne and Tracey. Though, Tracey was still fascinated by the boy before them. He was serene and cool, and while his tone of voice and stance showed a clear confidence, his bad posture seemed to contradict all that. He didn't stand straight, and she imagined if he did, he'd be a lot taller.

"And who invited you to our-" Pansy was silenced by Daphne, who elbowed her in her side. When Pansy rounded on her, Daphne shot at her a pointed look before turning back to Theodore and attempting to smile.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Theodore. I'm Daphne Greengrass and this is Pansy Parkinson and Tracey Davis," Daphne introduced cordially, motioning to each girl in turn. Theodore nodded minutely, as he stared at Daphne who despite her outward appearance had become... frightened. However, she did a good job covering up. Tracey was sure she was the only one who could see through the facade.

"Do you mind if I join you?" he asked, eyeing Daphne for a moment. However, Daphne turned a questioning glance to Tracey, who was starting to regret letting Daphne in, in the first place. Somehow she felt that if she had denied her, she wouldn't have to deal with this many people in the same compartment.

Turning to Theodore Nott, Tracey contemplated her answer. She wanted to tell him no, after all, she knew what his father was. He was a Death Eater, just like her uncle Augustus. However, as she recalled the way the boy cringed away from his father, she felt it would be wrong to judge him because of what his father was. She didn't want to be judged by her relation to Augustus after all, it was hardly fair of her to do the same to another.

Noticing Daphne's growing apprehension and the fact that the appearance of Theodore Nott had somehow managed to get Daphne to get Pansy to shut up, only seemed to further her opinion that allowing him to stay was not a bad idea. Smirking, Tracey nodded her consent and motioned for Theodore to sit.

He nodded his head in acknowledgment and stepped inside. He stowed his trunk away, causing the girls who were standing to move out of his way as he lugged the trunk into the rack overhead. He then sat opposite of Tracey, taking the seat Daphne had occupied before.

"Well... it was nice to meet you, Tracey. Pansy, we should get going," Daphne said suddenly, trying to remain polite and composed but Tracey could sense her desperation to get out of there. Pushing Pansy before her, Daphne strode out and closed the compartment door behind her. Vaguely, Tracey could hear Pansy loudly asking Daphne what that was about as Daphne hissed in return as they made their way down the corridor.

Turning away from the door, Tracey turned and found that the grey eyes of Theodore Nott were now trained on her intensely. "You're not afraid of me."

"Why should I be?" Tracey challenged, quirking a brow at the boy as she crossed her arms over her chest and sat back.

Theodore shrugged. "Your friend was."

"Knowing someone for five minutes hardly classifies someone as a friend," Tracey pointed out coolly. "And whatever Daphne Greengrass feels or thinks is her business and has nothing to do with me."

"No need to get defensive," Theodore smirked.

"Isn't there?"

"Not at all," Theodore replied.

"I think I'll reserve my own judgements."

Theodore merely shrugged in response. They both fell into silence as the train started to move along, Tracey turning to look out the window as they finally started to make their way.

**XxX**

It was starting to get dark out when the compartment door opened once more. Theodore had been deeply engrossed in a book, while Tracey stared out the window and watched the quiet boy every now and then.

Tracey looked up as a boy with skin like milk-chocolate and high cheekbones stood in the doorway. While he was nowhere near as tall as Theodore, he was more or less about Tracey's height, and had a healthier build than either of the two brunettes seated in the compartment. His black hair was cropped very short, so that it was hardly visible. His eyes had an exotic look about them, and were the color of syrup. Tracey was sure she'd never seen a prettier boy in her life, however, his haughty demeanor made her wary of him.

"Theodore," the boy greeted as he walked in, shutting the door with a snap and sat down on the same side as Theodore and looked at him. Theodore reluctantly raised his gaze from the book he was reading.

"Blaise," Theodore nodded at him, before turning his gaze back at to his book.

"So this is where you've been hiding yourself. Draco's been looking for you. Who's your... companion?" Blaise asked, turning his exotic eyes to the girl in the compartment.

"Tracey Davis," he responded, ignoring all mention of Draco Malfoy, and still not looking up from his book. Tracey mentally groaned at the thought of Draco Malfoy. _Just how many Death Eater's kids are __going to school with me?_ She found herself wondering.

Blaise shook his head. "Don't mind him, when he gets his nose in a book he forgets all about his manners. I'm Blaise Zabini."

"Fascinating," Tracey commented, a bit dryly. Blaise didn't seem much to care for that and narrowed his eyes on her. However, he didn't say anything in response.

"First year?"

"Obviously," Tracey responded. Once more, the boy glared at her and he could feel his anger and disdain rolling off him in waves. An intense hatred for women seemed to surge suddenly from nowhere inside her breast and Tracey was almost shocked by it's intensity. She closed her eyes and leaned her head back, trying to push the feeling out of her system. The exercise had her panting, the hatred had been so strong. When she looked up, she found that both boys were staring at her. Blaise with confusion, while Theodore watched her with open fascination. "What?" she snapped.

Both boys merely shook their heads and Tracey turned to look out the window once more, pointedly ignoring the other two.

**TBC...**


	3. Book 1, Chapter 3: So Make the Best

**Disclaimer:** The Prefect's name and a good deal of her speech in this chapter are straight from J.K. Rowling, from Pottermore. However, there are parts I omitted and changed up a bit. Her description and interactions with the first years in Tracey's House are my input.

**~X~x~X~**

**The Wallflowers **

**~X~x~X~**

**Book 1: Sorcerer's Stone**

**Chapter 3:**

**So Make The Best Of This Test And Don't Ask Why. It's Not A Question But A Lesson Learned In Time.  
**_(Good Riddance/ Time of Your Life- Green Day)_

Tracey stared up at the ceiling of the Great Hall as the Sorting Ceremony continued. She was already bored by it, and they were barely on the C's. Tracey was glad her last name was quite at the beginning of the alphabet.

The castle was bigger than she had imagined, and beyond fantastical. Immediately as she spotted it across the lake, she was in love with it. Warmth radiated form it, and Tracey couldn't help feeling the railings of the stairs as they climbed the steps up the cliff's side to head to the Great Hall from the Lake.

The castle felt so delightfully old. It felt peaceful, and loving... protective. A tremor spread through Tracey as she felt the stones, ignoring the rest of he classmates and the obnoxious hum of their chatter. Only by focusing on the feel of the castle was she able to keep out the overwhelming excitement that contaminated the rest of her classmates.

"Cornfoot, Stephen!" Professor McGonagall called out in the background. However, Tracey's attention was still caught by the ceiling. It was beautiful. She wondered briefly if she could find out the spell and do that to her own ceiling in her room. She felt she'd love to be able to look at the night sky on those restless summer nights when sleep was impossible. Tracey had always been a bit of an insomniac, or at the least had difficult falling asleep at night.

It was not that she was afraid of the dark, or any such nonsense as that... but she felt it was simply the way she was wired. Her body simply refused to sleep at night. It seemed to much rather prefer to rest during the day. Her mother had often called her, her little night owl, because of it.

"Crabbe, Vincent," Professor McGonagall called once Hufflepuff quieted. Thus far, Tracey had noted there were three Hufflepuffs, two Ravenclaws and only one Gryffindor and one Slytherin.

Tracey had barely managed to turn her attention back to the sorting when the hat shouted "SLYTHERIN!"

The table farthest on the right erupted in applause. Tracey looked up and watched as a very large, stupid looking boy clambered his way over. He was the second student thus far to be sorted into Slytherin. Casting a glance to the house of students clapping, Tracey saw the girl that had been sorted there earlier. She too was large and a bit unpleasant looking, causing Tracey to grimace. Slytherin was starting to look like the house for the large and lumbering, as oppose to the house for the cunning and ambitious.

"Davis, Tracey," Professor McGonagall called. Tracey felt her stomach clench as she turned and looked forward. Shutting her eyes for an instant, she tried to seek the comfort of the castle to calm her sudden anxiety. Opening her eyes, she carefully picked her way over to the stool.

Briefly, she cast a glance at Professor McGonagall. The woman was tall and slender with a face as stern and severe as the bun she kept her black hair up in. However, something about the scotswoman gave Tracey the confidence she needed to pick up the sorting hat without her fingers trembling. Sitting down, she sat straight and propped the hat on her head, a bit relieved when the brim of the hat fell over her eyes.

"Hmm, you're a tricky one," a voice startled her, causing her to jump slightly in her seat. "Got a good mind... yes. Very bright. Very curious and determined. You would do well in Ravenclaw."

Tracey bit on her lip. _Ravenclaw?_ She thought without much enthusiasm. Her mother had been a Ravenclaw, and she wasn't really sure that was the House for her. She loathed the thought that she was that much like her mother.

"It's a great house, for the academically minded. It would suit you. You would meet other's with your same passion for the written word," the hat went on, intriguing.

_I don't think that's really who I am. At least not all I am,_ Tracey thought somehow sure that the hat would hear her thoughts.

"True, there is more to you. A certain amount of fearlessness. Not at all afraid to be yourself, or easily swayed by others. Perhaps Gryffindor?"

Tracey's only response to this was a snort of both amusement and derision. No, she was definitely no Gryffindor. She was by no means impulsive or brash. She thought things through before reaching a decision or conclusion and she was not above manipulation.

"Perhaps Slytherin then? There is a bit of cunning here, and certain a determination that is almost single-minded. There would be plenty there who would promote your special talents. You could rise to greatness, Slytherin will certainly help you get there."

Tracey smirked, slightly amused that the hat didn't even consider Hufflepuff for her.

A chuckle startled her. "Well there is a certain amount of kindness in you, you've simply buried it very far within. If you wish, Hufflepuff would help you bring it to the forefront. Could make that kindness grow. Teach you loyalty."

_I don't think so_, Tracey thought dryly, annoyed with herself for putting the thought into the hat's... mind. If it could be considered such.

"You're quite difficult to place, child. I stand by my belief, Ravenclaw would suit you well. Introduce you to others, like yourself. But Slytherin, might help you discover your talents-"

_What talents?_

"You feel things. See past the facades... feelings and emotions cannot lie, only be hidden by the most talented. There is so much talent here... in your mind. And power... if you'd have the drive and discipline to control it. If you can push yourself. Prove that you really are just as good as your Pureblood counterparts," the hat explained.

Tracey bit her lip. She was vaguely aware of this. Of the fact that since she was young, she had good control of her magic. But also, she'd always known she was different, even from her mother. She knew that there was something else about her... but she could never understand why she could feel emotions she was sure belonged to others. Why sometimes she could feel places like they were sentient themselves. Why she could know things about people, without ever having even met them before.

Like Theodore Nott whom she had met on the train. He was strong, she knew it, she could feel it. But it was a quiet sort of strength and she knew that despite the fact that he was deathly afraid of his father, he wanted to prove something to the man too. Prove that he couldn't be broken. Prove that he could become a better man than his father.

And Blaise. That hatred she felt from him towards women... the conflicted feeling which stemmed from his mother who, despite being what she was, he still loved. Loved and loathed, in equal measures but grudgingly respected.

_Slytherins would take advantage if they could of my... talents as you call them,_ Tracey thought warily and with a bit of sadness. It was the reason she'd never told her mother about these things. She didn't trust her mother not to bring her into the Department of Mysteries as some kind of test subject.

"And Ravenclaw's would not? Gryffindors?" the hat questioned. Tracey imagined if the hat were a person, it would be a _he_ and _he'd_ be not unlike Mr. Ollivander.

Tracey bit on her lip once more. The hat had a point. Her mother would be the first to take advantage of her, would want to watch her like she were one of her test subjects in the Ministry._ At least then I'd get the attention she'd never really given me,_ Tracey thought sardonically with a tinge of bitterness as she looked down at her hands twisting in her lap.

"You've hidden it this long, who says you'd have to reveal it to anyone?" the hat asked, not unkindly. Tracey closed her eyes and focused on the hat. It too was old, and felt quite a bit like the castle. He was warm, and nurturing in his own way. But also proud, but not unyielding. He had personality, and she got the feeling he was enjoying their conversation, despite his need to sort her out.

_True,_ Tracey conceded at last. _So what would it be, Slytherin or Ravenclaw?_

"You want to prove you're not your mother, and better than Pureblood's? Discover your talents. Well... it better then be..." the hat deliberated and Tracey almost held her breath. "SLYTHERIN!" the hat finally shouted to the relief of everyone in the Great Hall. The hat had taken very near to five minutes trying to decide where to place Tracey Davis. The hall in general were getting impatient.

Tracey breathed in deeply as Slytherin house erupted in applause. Taking the hat from her head, she got off the stool and placed it on the seat. With all the dignity she could muster, she straightened her spine and tried to glide gracefully over to the Slytherin table, careful not to step on her school robes and trip on the way.

Once she reached the Slytherin table, she found herself forced to politely shake the hands of a few around her as she took her seat on a bench. Soon the applause settled down and the sorting continued, however, now that she was sorted, Tracey couldn't bring herself to watch it. Instead her gaze finally turned to the High Table, taking in each of the Professor's seated there and wondering what subjects they taught. However, from this distance and with so many people around, it was hard to use her... _talents_ as the hat had called them.

It wasn't long after her sorting that they were joined by a Gregory Goyle and very shortly after that by Daphne Greengrass. "Tracey, I was so happy when you were sorted into Slytherin!" Daphne exclaimed as she took her place beside Tracey and smiling brightly, showing off her perfectly straight teeth once more. _She could blind someone with those, _Tracey thought sardonically as she nodded in response. "The hat took quite some time trying to place you, didn't it?"

Tracey nodded and pretended to turn her interest to the sorting as her thoughts turned back to the things that the hat had said to her. Soon, they were joined by a blonde with pale skin and a pointy face who made himself a place between the two big oafs who Tracey thought would be able to pass off for trolls in a few short years. As soon as he sat, across from Daphne, Tracey knew that like Pansy, this boy was someone she could not possibly bring herself to like.

When Theodore was sorted into Slytherin, Tracey wasn't really surprised. However, she found herself clapping. She smirked in amusement when he chose to sit next to Daphne, which seemed to make the blonde girl uncomfortable.

When they were joined by Pansy Parkinson, Tracey was less then amused.

**XxX**

"What have I missed?" Blaise asked when he joined their table some time later.

"Oh nothing, just Malfoy regaling us with his riveting encounter with the-boy-who-lived," Tracey commented sarcastically with a slight roll of her eyes. Her patience had already worn thin with Malfoy. Since Potter's name had been called he'd been practically whining the whole time, telling them how the little half-breed had foolishly thrown away the chance to be his friend.

At this statement, Draco and his goons along with Pansy were hissing with anger, while Blaise merely looked at Tracey with a raised brow, trying to keep his mouth frown quirking into an amused smirk. Clearly, there was no love lost between Blaise Zabini and Draco Malfoy, however, Blaise wasn't foolish enough to be so forward with it.

"Still charming as you were on the train, I see," Blaise commented, with no malice whatsoever in his tone. His respect for her raising at her blatant disregard towards Draco Malfoy.

"I think the word charm is missing from her vocabulary, extensive as it seems," Theodore commented quietly. However, when Tracey turned her gaze to look at him, she noticed a teasing sparkle in Theodore's eyes and knew that he didn't really mean anything by it.

Though their ride on the train had been for the most part silent, she, Blaise and Theodore had broken the silence now and then to speak. Tracey found that despite Blaise's disdain to her gender in general, and despite Theodore's slightly introvert personality, they were both very smart, Theodore more so. He was down right brilliant, a genius even and she could grudgingly respect them for this. It wasn't often she met boys that were smart and she realized here that she had a rare opportunity to actually make friends.

However, before anything could be said, Tracey found her gaze drawn to the high table. Albus Dumbledore, one of the greatest wizards of all time, was standing. His long beard and bespectacled old face seemed to contradict what Tracey had always imagined him as. Somehow, she thought it strange that such a man could defeat one of the most powerful wizards of all time.

"Welcome! Welcome to a new year of Hogwarts! Before we begin our banquet, I would like to say a few words. And here they are: Nitwit! Blubber! Oddment! Tweak! Thank you!" At this, Headmaster Dumbledore sat back down in his seat at the center of the High Table. The Great Hall erupted in laughter and claps, except from the Slytherin table.

"My father always did say he was a bumbling, nosy idiot," Malfoy said with a look of disgust as he shook his head.

"But didn't he defeat Grindelwald?" Daphne asked with a frown as she shook her head in confusion.

"He did, but he's probably gone batty in his old age," Blaise noted as the food appeared at the table and everyone started putting food on their plates.

Tracey started reaching out as well. She was starving. All she had on the train were a few Bertie Bott's Beans that Blaise had deigned to share with her in exchange for some of her cauldron cakes. "It's more likely that it's an image he projects, so people will underestimate him. It really is foolish to underestimate Dumbledore, no matter how batty he acts," Tracey commented in deadpan as she focused her attention on her food and began to eat.

"Very astute observation, Tracey. I agree," Theodore mentioned, causing Tracey to look across Daphne to him. She flashed him a tiny smile as she nodded, their mutual respect growing.

**XxX**

"Firsties!" the willowy, brunette Prefect motioned for them to follow her as they stepped into the Slytherin Common Room. Tracey's eyes had a hard time focusing on the pretty teenager as she looked about her House's Common Room as it was bathed in greenish light due to the lamps that hung on chains overhead and the fact that they appeared to be under the Black Lake. A fact that both made her a bit anxious, but which she found extremely fascinating. "Gather round, I'm Prefect Gemma Farley and I'm delighted to welcome you to SLYTHERIN HOUSE."

"Now, there are a few things you should know about Slytherin – and a few you should forget. Firstly, let's dispel a few myths," she started in a loud and confident voice, from where she stood by the fireplace, once she was surrounded by the small group of first years. Tracey noted as she and the eight others in her year gathered around her, that the older Slytherins also stuck around to hear the speech, despite the fact that it seemed to be something of a yearly thing. However, most merely hung back in other places of the common room, catching up with their friends and making themselves comfortable.

"You might have heard rumours about Slytherin house – that we're all into the Dark Arts, and will only talk to you if your great-grandfather was a famous wizard, and rubbish like that. Well, you don't want to believe everything you hear from competing houses. I'm not denying that we've produced our share of Dark wizards, but so have the other three houses – they just don't like admitting it. And yes, we have traditionally tended to take students who come from long lines of witches and wizards, but nowadays you'll find plenty of people in Slytherin house who have at least one Muggle parent," as she said this, a few people scoffed.

Most notably, were Draco Malfoy and his two goons, not to mention Pansy who was stuck on his arm like a barnacle. "Bet you she's a half-blood," Pansy whispered to Daphne with a giggle, drawing Gemma Farley's attention to her. The Prefect paused and glared at her.

"Quiet you bunch of little sods," the brawny, dark-haired Prefect boy standing next to Gemma Farley growled, causing Pansy, Draco and the goons to pipe down immediately.

"Thanks Jugson," Gemma commented offhandedly before clearing her throat and going on with her prepared speech. "But that's enough about what we're not. Let's talk about what we are, which is the coolest and edgiest house in this school. We play to win, because we care about the honour and traditions of Slytherin.

"We also get respect from our fellow students. Yes, some of that respect might be tinged with fear, because of our Dark reputation, but you know what? It can be fun, having a reputation for walking on the wild side. Chuck out a few hints that you've got access to a whole library of curses, and see whether anyone feels like nicking your pencil case.

"But we're not bad people," she said, pausing for another moment and putting significant emphasis on her words. Tracey couldn't help being slightly amused by the girl's use of colloquial terms and her enthusiasm. Tracey found Gemma Farley didn't fit what she thought would be the mold of a Prefect, and she rather liked Gemma Farley. "We're like our emblem, the snake: sleek, powerful, and frequently misunderstood

"For instance, we Slytherins look after our own – which is more than you can say for Ravenclaw. Apart from being the biggest bunch of swots you ever met," here there were a few snickers, and Tracey couldn't help smirking in amusement. "Ravenclaws are famous for clambering over each other to get good marks, whereas we Slytherins are brothers. The corridors of Hogwarts can throw up surprises for the unwary, and you'll be glad you've got the Serpents on your side as you move around the school. As far as we're concerned, once you've become a snake, you're one of ours – one of the elite."

Tracey felt a great swelling of pride in her chest at this, which she was sure wasn't just her own, and not simply influenced by the rest around her. For a moment, she exchanged a look with Theodore, who stood beside her and offered her a very faint and tired smile. Turning slowly back to the Prefect, she thought on the fact that home hadn't felt like home in years now, and how it would be nice to have a family once more.

"Because you know what Salazar Slytherin looked for in his chosen students? _The seeds of greatness._ You've been chosen by this house because you've got the potential to be great, in the true sense of the word. All right, you might see a couple of people hanging around the common room whom you might not think are destined for anything special. Well, keep that to yourself. If the Sorting Hat put them in here, there's something great about them, and don't you forget it.

"A few more things you might need to know: our house ghost is the Bloody Baron. If you get on the right side of him he'll sometimes agree to frighten people for you," she said, flashing a mischievous grin all of a sudden. "Just don't ask him how he got bloodstained; he doesn't like it.

"Our Head of House is Professor Snape and while he has a reputation to favor us, he expects our level of conduct to be beyond reproach. Anything less than that and you risk severely angering him and believe me, you don't want to be on Professor Snape's bad side. Although that being said you won't find a better Head of House, as Professor Snape truly always looks out for our best interest, even when we are in the wrong.

"The password to the common room changes every fortnight. Keep an eye on the noticeboard. Never bring anyone from another house into our common room or tell them our password. No outsider has entered it for more than seven centuries.

"Well, I think that's all for now. I suggest you all retire to your dormitories, as tardiness is absolutely inexcusable to Professor Snape, even if you are first years. If you have any questions, never fear to ask me, my fellow Prefects or one of the older students in our House," Gemma Farley stated with a last grin and welcome, as she finished up, before walking away.

"That certainly was enlightening," Theodore commented as some of the others started clambering to the dorms.

"Not what you expected?" Tracey asked. It certainly hadn't been what she was expecting, that was for sure.

"No, but I suppose it's to increase the feel of House unity," he commented with a shrug of his slender shoulders.

"Do you think it will work?" Tracey asked doubtfully as she glared at the back of Pansy Parkinson's head. She didn't think that there was anything in the world that could make her feel familial towards that girl, or Malfoy for that matter.

"I doubt it," Theodore responded, stifling a yawn. "I suppose I will see you in the morning, Trace."

"Oh ho, a nickname? I suppose that means I can call you Teddy?" Tracey asked, teasingly as she turned to look at Theodore who turned to look at her with mild disgust.

"No!" he said emphatically, before quickly adding, "But Theo is perfectly fine with me."

Tracey flashed a small smile at him. "Theo it is then. Good night, Theo."

"Good night, Trace."

**TBC...**


	4. Book 1, Chapter 4: Fated to Pretend

**A/n: **Anyway reading this, please review! I'd like to hear from you, get your thoughts on the story thus far?

**~X~x~X~**

**The Wallflowers**

**~X~x~X~**

**Book 1: Sorcerer's Stone**

**Chapter 4:**

**We're Fated To Pretend.  
**_(Time To Pretend- MGMT)_

Tracey slumped into a seat beside Theodore at the Slytherin table after having followed a small group of Slytherin's to the Great Hall the following morning. Her eyes were having a hard time staying open as she grabbed a few pieces of toast and smeared marmalade over them.

"Not a morning person, are you?" Theodore asked quietly from his seat beside her.

"If you spent most nights wide-awake, you wouldn't be either," Tracey replied monotonously as she rubbed her eyes with her fist before continuing her task and eating slowly. Putting some food in her stomach seemed to energize her a bit, or at least wake her some. Looking around, she found that there weren't very many people in the Great Hall. "You're up early."

Theodore shrugged his far too thin and almost angular shoulders. "I'm used to waking up very early," he replied simply. Tracey could sense his reticence and dropped the subject, even though she was curious.

Both Slytherin's fell into silence as they both ate. Tracey wasn't surprised when a while later Theodore pulled out a book and started reading it there at the table, nor was she offended that he didn't find her company particularly riveting as he lost himself in whatever book he was reading now. Tracey merely placed her chin in her hand, her elbow resting on the table's surface as she attempted to keep her eyes open.

"You look like hell this morning, Davis," Tracey barely looked up when a while later they were joined by Malfoy and his two goons.

Tracey didn't respond to this. She'd caught a reflection of herself this morning when she was getting ready and she was more than aware of the deep, dark bags beneath her olive-green eyes. She was more than aware how she looked, it didn't help that her pale complexion probably added to her sickly appearance. However, she couldn't be moved to care about Malfoy's opinion.

Clearly dissatisfied by her lack of response, Draco drawled on, "Missing home already?"

Tracey ignored this barb too, being as it wasn't much of a barb. There wasn't really much of a home to miss anyway. The place she and her mother were forced to move into after her father left them was a rather dreary neighborhood. One Tracey never bothered to explore, she wasn't really much of outdoors-type person. Although, she did like rain, and the stars and the moon.

Draco was further annoyed to be so thoroughly ignored and moved away, followed by his goons.

"Are you really that tired, that you can't even manage a retort?" Theo asked amused, not looking up from his book.

Tracey shrugged her shoulders lethargically. "It made him go away, didn't it? I'd call that a success."

Some time later, Tracey watched as Pansy strode past them, followed by Millicent and Daphne, the last of which waved at them. Pansy and the other girls moved and settled across from Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle. Tracey rolled her eyes at this, and merely nodded at Daphne in response to the wave the blonde had given her.

It was quite a while later when Blaise showed up and sat across from them. "About time, sleeping beauty," Theodore mocked, once more without looking up from his book.

Tracey smirked at the glare Blaise shot at the other boy as he piled food on his plate. Tracey did note that the Great Hall was once more nearly full, and it was already eight thirty. Blaise had arrived so late to breakfast, that Tracey noticed the Heads of House were making their way down the tables; she guessed to hand out schedules.

Blaise was emphatically not a morning person, Tracey noticed as she watched him eat in silence. He seemed rather foul-tempered and grouchy, a fact that would have greatly amused her if she weren't so tired. The sleep-deprivation hardly allowed her to notice when their Head of House, a very tall, slender man in all black, passed them while handing each of them a time table. Or in her case, letting her schedule fall on an empty spot on the table before her as she hadn't bothered to turn and acknowledge him.

A little burst of energy appeared through her as she reached out for her time table and looked at it with interest. Unlike going to a muggle primary school, she was actually very interested in her classes and couldn't wait to see what she had first. The prospect of all she would be learning was positively thrilling for her.

_**Monday**_

_9:00 am- Herbology _

_Lunch_

_1:00 pm- Charms  
3:30 pm- History of Magic_

Tracey groaned at the thought of having Herbology, first thing in the morning. She was not the most nurturing of people. The idea of looking after something living rather... vexed her. It was the reason why she hadn't gotten a pet to bring to Hogwarts. The idea of having to deal with plants the first thing in the morning did not appeal to her in the least, even if she had nothing against animals and plants. She just preferred to see them from afar and not have to look after them or be responsible for them.

However, the prospect of having Charms later on did brighten up her day a bit. Although, she got the feeling that she'd be falling asleep during History of Magic, despite the fact that she thought History an interesting subject.

**XxX**

As predicted, Tracey did not do well in Herbology, despite being paired with Theodore Nott. She found she rather despised the class; not to mention the Ravenclaws, who did not waste any opportunity to show off by answering every question asked. Tracey found it obnoxious, she always did hate show-off know-it-alls; she refused to be like that.

Charms was only marginally better, despite the fact that Professor Flitwick was Head of Ravenclaw, who they happened to have the class with. However, to Tracey, Charms were incredibly simple and despite the fact that she knew more advanced magic, she enjoyed the class. Professor Flitwick was a good teacher who made class enjoyable and really knew what he was doing.

Also as predicted, Tracey fell asleep through most of History of Magics. However, she blamed that in part to Professor Binn's teaching. He just droned on and on and on... a pity really. It had been one of the classes she was looking forward to.

As the week slowly progressed, Tracey found that not much else was different. She was a bit annoyed by the fact that all of her classes thus far had been with the Ravenclaws, and that they had to do Herbology three times a week. When Friday morning came, Tracey was glad that the week was nearly up.

"Double Potions with the Gryffindors this morning, that should be interesting," Theodore remarked as he, Tracey and Blaise got up from the Slytherin table after they finished breakfast and headed down to the dungeons.

"Why's that? Because it's Potions? Because it's taught by our Head of House? Or because it's with the Gryffindors and the-boy-who-lived?" Tracey asked, a bit snidely as she tried to rub the sleep from her eyes. Despite the fact that she'd been having to get up early all week for classes, she was still not back to a normal sleeping schedule. She supposed the naps she took in a couple classes, causing her to lose points for Slytherin and the fact that she fell asleep after dinner only to wake up hours later and spend most of the night awake didn't help. But she couldn't help it, she was damn tired by the time dinner was over!

"All of the above, I should think," Blaise responded, apparently beginning to emerge from his usual morning foul-temper. It usually took a couple hours, and a full stomach to get Blaise to mellow out a bit in the mornings. "From Theo's point of view."

"And the fact that Professor Snape hates Gryffindors and that we're his House, we'll have an even greater advantage," Theodore pointed out, as they made their way down the stairs towards the dungeons.

"Good, because I've never done a Potion before and I'm already at a disadvantage, even if I did pour over the text book incessantly," Tracey replied as she chewed her bottom lip nervously. Normally, she didn't really care about her Professor's opinions of her, unless of course she respected them because they were very competent. However, Professor Snape was a different matter. He was her Head of House, and it wouldn't do to fall on his bad side as he had ultimate power over Slytherin.

"Merlin, you're just like Theo aren't you? And here I thought you were less academic because you've been falling asleep in several classes this week," Blaise muttered almost under his breath as they arrived at the Potions classroom. Tracey glared at Blaise but ignored the comment, as the trio made their way inside.

Tracey was starting to get a reputation with the Ravenclaws for being lazy. For some reason, falling asleep in class automatically made people think that you were a dunderhead. Never-mind the fact that she was one of the few to get a charm done correctly the first time, or one of the few who'd been able to turn a matchstick into a pin in Transfiguration.

"Tracey's an insomniac, her falling asleep in class has nothing to do with a lack of interest in the subject," Theodore commented dryly, causing Tracey to look at him with wide eyes as the three of them picked the first table on what they deemed as the Slytherin side of the classroom; they were the first students to show up.

"Finally, someone with some sense," Tracey breathed as they were joined by several other Slytherins in the class and a couple of Gryffindors. Tracey tried to ignore Draco and his two goons as they sat at the table behind them. Something the Slytherin's learned very quickly, was to always travel in packs, Tracey found. "You know, for all their logic, Ravenclaw's severely lack in common sense."

"Well the sad truth about common sense, is that it is severely lacking in most people," Theodore commented dryly, causing Tracey to smirk. She was really starting to adore Theo, despite the fact that he was usually quiet and had his nose shoved in a book. Perhaps more so because of that.

"Why do I associate with you two? Your Ravenclaw is showing," Blaise commented, earning another glare from Tracey.

Tracey chose to ignore this comment like Theodore and rifled through her bag for her glasses. Being as she was near-sighted, she needed them to see the board in all her classes, a fact that came as a bit of a surprise to Theodore and for some reason happened to amuse Blaise immensely. The first time she wore her glasses in class, Theodore has asked why she simply didn't wear them all the time, not understanding why she would choose to be partially blind most of the time. However, Tracey couldn't explain it, she simply found glasses inconvenient to wear at all times. Especially as the thick black frames blocked her peripheral vision.

When the bell rang to toll the start of first class of the day, Professor Snape strode in, his black robes billowing behind him and shutting the door with a loud bang. Immediately the quiet murmuring from before died away, even before Professor Snape hissed for silence as he stood at the front of the class.

"When I call your name, you will raise your hand. Speaking is not necessary, so I expect you to be silent," he commanded coldly as his dark eyes swept across them all. Tracey felt a shiver course through her that had nothing to do with the cold that permeated the Dungeons in general.

_Great, my Head of House is a terrorist, _Tracey thought sardonically as she watched the dark man, noting that apart from Quirrell he was the youngest Professor on staff. She found his pale and almost cruel features intensely fascinating, though she wasn't sure why as she continued to watch him curiously. She wondered just who this man was. He seemed too young to be a Potions Master, a title one did not come by easily. Tracey was well aware of this, and the fact that he must be the youngest Potions Master in the world.

"Tracey Davis," his voice rang out, some several names later. Tracey raised her hand, drawing his eyes immediately as they sought her. Their eyes clashed for a moment, and Tracey found herself caught in the black pools. For a moment, she felt that familiar sensation that she was sinking into those eyes, a sensation she often got when she met the eyes of certain people. It was like sinking beneath the surface of water. However, she felt suddenly something she'd never felt before. Like she'd crashed suddenly against a barrier and she couldn't see anything but herself looking at the man.

Shaking her head, she noticed a frown that crossed his face as he continued to look at her, before he went on with roll call, as if nothing happened. Tracey furrowed her brow and looked about herself for a moment, wondering if anyone else had noticed that. However, it seemed the moment that to her seemed to last an eternity, had only really been a matter of seconds.

Tracey frowned as she hunched on her stool, her hands grabbing onto the hard wooden surface of the worktable before her. She wasn't sure what had happened. She thought, like many times before, she was about to see something more to the man; gain knowledge of him the way she did with many others, however, she had gotten nothing. Nothing but that strange sensation of falling against a barrier, like a wall.

She was so distracted by her thoughts, she hardly paid attention to Professor Snape as he went on and finished the roll call.

"You are here to learn the subtle science and exact art of potion-making," Professor Snape began suddenly, speaking barely above a whisper, his deep velvety tones almost making his voice feel like a caress. Tracey was further intrigued. His tone, his voice, his words... Tracey thought the man could almost be a poet. The thought causing her mentally to snort, _a poet about Potions?_ The idea was ridiculous.

"As there is little foolish wand-waving here, many of you will hardly believe this is magic. I don't expect you will really understand the beauty of the softly simmering cauldron with its shimmering fumes, the delicate power of liquids that creep through human veins, bewitching the mind, ensnaring the senses... I can teach you how to bottle fame, brew glory, even stopper death- If you aren't as big a bunch of dunderheads as I usually have to teach."

_He's definitely waxing poetic, _Tracey thought, trying not to feel uncomfortable. She'd never seen that level of passion for anything before, from anyone. And coming from her Head of House, it seemed strange. _Subtle science...wand-waving... softly simmering, such alliteration, _she thought to herself, trying to keep her wonder at it. _Well he has a way with words, that's for sure..._

"Potter! What would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?" Professor Snape suddenly called out, startling everyone after the silence that he'd allowed after his speech. Everyone turned in their seat to look at The-Boy-Who-Lived.

Tracey really hadn't gotten much of a look at Harry Potter, even when he'd been sorted as she had been too distracted. However, now as she looked at him, she could't help thinking that he didn't look like much. The confused boy with a messy mop of black hair who looked even smaller than she was, seemed an unlikely candidate for savior of their world.

_Draught of Living Death_, Tracey thought, as if the thought alone could somehow help the boy she felt a slight amount of pity for. It was never fun to be picked on, especially by a teacher. However, the answer seemed so easy to her.

"I don't know, sir," the boy replied, his voice soft, quiet but still respectful and not quite meek.

Snape's lip curled into a sneer. His satisfaction was so clear, that to Tracey it was physically palpable. As sadistic sort of pleasure suddenly started seeping through her skin as Professor Snape went on, "Tut, tut- fame cleared isn't everything. Le't try again. Potter, where would you look if I told you to find me a bezoar?"

_Stomach of a goat_, Tracey thought. However, once more the Potter boy seemed to not know. Tracey shook her head, feeling a bit exasperated. Especially as she could see a bushy haired girl practically begging with her eyes to be picked to answer the question with her hand so high in the air that it would've reached the ceiling if the girl so wanted to. Tracey felt annoyance at this. _Another know-it-all, and here I thought we would be free of them. _

"Thought you wouldn't open a book before coming, eh, Potter?" Professor Snape asked coldly, sneer still in place. Tracey couldn't help frowning slightly at this, wondering why Professor Snape was so adamant about picking on Harry Potter and why he seemed to enjoy it so much. "What is the difference, Potter, between monkshood and wolfsbane?

_Trick question, same plant,_ Tracey thought. Tracey tried not to feel disgust when the bushy-haired girl jumped out of her seat, practically waving her hand in her extreme desire to be noticed.

"I don't know. I think Hermione does, though, why don't you try her?"

Tracey was shocked at the blatant disrespect towards her Head of House and though thus far she wasn't sure what to think about the man, she couldn't help feel offended on his behalf. It didn't help either that she could suddenly felt the white hot ire of the Potions Master form across the room. The anger and hate form him was so intense, she felt like her body was on fire and she couldn't help from recoiling in her discomfort.

"Sit down!" Professor Snape suddenly snapped at the girl who's name was apparently Hermione. "For your information, Potter, asphodel and wormwood make a sleeping potion so powerful it is known as the Draught of Living Death. A bezoar is a stone taken from the stomach of a goat and it will save you from most poisons. As for monkshood and wolfsbane, they are the same plant, which also goes by the name of aconite. Well? Why aren't you all copying that down?"

**XxX**

By the time Potions was done, Tracey was incredibly relieved and was quick to escape. "What's up with you?" Theodore asked, making his long stride quicken to catch up with Tracey. Throughout class, due to the fact that they had been paired together to make their potion, he had noticed how uncomfortable Tracey had looked.

Tracey shook her head. "Nothing, it just got really hot in there," she replied, waving him off. However, that wasn't the truth, but she couldn't bring herself to explain to him her issues and the fact that Professor Snape's angry, brooding, dark presence set her on edge.

Theodore looked skeptical of his friend, but chose not to comment. They all had their secrets, and he wasn't one to pry in someone else's.

**TBC...**


	5. Book 1, Chapter 5: Think I'm Special

**~X~x~X~**

**The Wallflowers**

**~X~x~X~**

**Book 1: Sorcerer's Stone**

**Chapter 5:**

**Do You Think I'm Special? Do You Think I'm Nice? Do You Think I'm Bright Enough to Shine In Your Spaces  
**_(All The Right Moves- OneRepublic)_

"Tracey Davis?" Tracey looked up from her homework, which she was just finishing up. It was late Saturday morning, and her stomach was rumbling.

"Yes?" Tracey asked, furrowing her brow as she stared up at Gemma Farley. The brunette nodded her head succinctly.

"Professor Snape wants to see you in his office," the Prefect explained, causing Tracey's stomach to churn slightly as she furrowed her brow as she wondered if she were in trouble. As if knowing her anxiety, Gemma smiled down at her comfortingly. "Don't worry, you're not in trouble. The first Saturday of every school year, Professor Snape makes it a point to see all his First years for a short meeting, just to see how they are getting on in their classes."

"Oh," Tracey nodded, however, the frown did not leave her face. Despite the fact that she was not in trouble, she was not particularly looking forward to being in close proximity to her Head of House. She was rather apprehensive about it due to the strength of the man's emotions, which only seemed negative.

"Do you know where his office is?" Gemma asked as Tracey got up and gathered her things, putting them in her bag. Tracey shook her head in response. "All right, then I will lead you there," Gemma offered with a friendly and comforting smile. Tracey merely nodded her head, slinging her bag strap over shoulder as she followed along behind Gemma.

Tracey ignored her nervousness as she followed the much taller, older girl and instead focused intensely on the route they took from Slytherin to Professor Snape's office so that she'd be able to find her way back to Slytherin. It wasn't long before they stopped outside a shut door. Gemma knocked on it for Tracey. "I will see you around, Tracey."

"Yeah, thanks for everything," Tracey mumbled distractedly as she waited. Gemma nodded her head and walked away just as Tracey heard a faint 'come in' from the other side of the door. Bracing herself and mentally trying to prepare herself, Tracey reached out for the door handle and stepped inside.

The office was as dimly lit as the rest of the Dungeons and was rather spacious. Tracey couldn't help noticing the pickled jars that lined most of the walls. She wasn't particularly surprised by the décor, considering what the Potions classroom looked like. Closing the door quietly behind herself, Tracey very slowly approached the man seated behind his desk, seemingly grading papers. "You wanted to see me, sir?" Tracey asked politely, keeping her voice quiet, but loud enough that he could hear her.

"Yes. Have a seat. I'll be with you in a moment," he replied curtly, not looking up from his work.

Tracey merely took the seat opposite of his very large desk, laying her bag quietly at her feet as she placed her hands in her lap and tried not to focus too much on the dark man before her. Despite what Gemma had said, and despite the fact that she couldn't feel anything form the man, she still felt apprehensive about this little meeting. Her dark and cold surroundings didn't help much. The hard chair didn't make her feel anymore comfortable or welcome either, though she suspected that was the point of the highly uncomfortable, high-backed chair with no armrests.

After a few more minutes of silence, Professor Snape finally put down his quill and looked up at her, watching her with those dark and penetrating eyes of his. "Miss Davis, normally during these meetings I would merely ask you how you're doing in your classes and how you have adjusted to your dorms. However, it has been brought to my attention by a couple of your Professor's that you've been sleeping in class. This is _not_ acceptable behavior. However, given your conduct in my class and the fact you managed to brew a more than adequate Potion, I will give you the benefit of the doubt. Would you care to explain why you find it so difficult to stay awake during your classes? You do not strike me as a dunderhead."

Tracey licked her suddenly dry lips as she tried not to shrink beneath the weight of his gaze. "I don't mean to, sir. I simply find it difficult to fall to sleep at night," she replied, a flush coming over her cheeks at the tremor in her voice as she looked away from his gaze and stared down at her lap. "That's why I fall asleep during some classes."

"Why can't you sleep? Nightmares? Are the other girls keeping you up? What is it?" Professor Snape asked, not unkindly however with no warmth in his voice either. It was just as cool and aloof, with a slight drawl of impatience.

Tracey shook her head. "It's nothing like that, sir. I've simply always had trouble sleeping at night. My mother sometimes calls me her little vampire because of it."

"I see," Professor Snape commented, before getting up from his seat; Tracey looked up and watched him head to what she assumed was his personal stores before coming back to stand behind his desk, holding a couple phials in his hand. "Well that is not acceptable. This is an Awakening potion, take a drop every time you're tired during class for the next week," he said, handing her a phial.

Tracey had to get up from her seat in order to grab it. For a moment, she looked down at it, reading the label on the phial. "This, Miss Davis, is a sleeping draught. A mild one. I want you to take three drops before you go to sleep each night for the next week. If you find that it is not helping you sleep at night, or that it is working too well, I want you to come back and see me and we can adjust the dosage."

Tracey nodded her understanding as she accepted the second vial he was handing to her, before he took his seat. "Professor?"

"Yes?"

"Isn't taking sleeping draughts... unadvisable due to the potential of becoming too dependent on them?" she asked, slowly raising her eyes to look at him as she remained standing in front of his desk. Professor Snape's lip curled into a smirk. However, it wasn't anywhere near as cruel as the one that she noticed that he gave to the Gryffindors during class the previous morning during Potions. It was practically a smile.

"Of course Miss Davis, that is why we're only trying it for this coming week. It is to help shift your sleeping schedule to appropriate hours. Afterwards it probably won't be necessary," he replied, his silky voice soft and almost gentle. "Now have a seat. We're not through yet." Tracey was quick to do as she was told. "How has Slytherin been treating you?"

Tracey noticed momentarily the way his eyes raked over her attire. Looking down at herself, she was once more aware of the fact that she was dressed in muggle clothes. During the school week, she had to wear her school uniform and robes. However, now that it was the weekend, she found herself wearing a black jumper that was a little bigger than she was, and a set of jeans.

Frowning, Tracey looked at the man opposite, wondering if her Head of House was prejudiced against muggleborns and half-bloods. However, after watching him for a moment, she didn't think so. She didn't feel any hate or derision directed towards her.

"Fine, Professor," she replied simply with a shrug of her shoulders.

"No one has troubled you?" he asked, his eyes searching. Tracey shook her head and once more shrugged inelegantly.

"Not particularly, I mostly keep to myself," she replied, honestly. She got the sense that there wasn't much of a point lying to Professor Snape as she looked into his eyes. It was like they could see through a person.

However, it was true. It seemed that Pansy and Draco weren't as stupid as they looked. Once they noted that Tracey was good were practical magic was concerned, they had more or less stopped bothering her. Though, they did look at her derisively from time to time and made rude comments now and then, but Tracey couldn't really be bothered with what they thought of her.

Professor Snape merely nodded in response, his gaze still remaining on Tracey's. He furrowed his brow as he continued to look into her eyes. However, after a moment he merely shook his head. "Very well Miss Davis, that will be all."

Tracey nodded her head, grabbing her bag and picking it up off the floor, carefully putting the vials her Head of House had given her into her bag. "Bye, Professor," Tracey called quietly as she exited the room, not looking back. When she got back to the Slytherin common room, she found Theodore was sitting there.

"Oh so you're finally up? How was your meeting with Professor Snape?" Theodore asked as she sat at the table, next to him. He only briefly looked up from whatever book he was reading. Tracey found that Theodore rather read a lot of books on spells. His favorite subjected appeared to be Defense Against the Dark Arts.

"It was fine," she replied flippantly. "Did you have yours already?"

"First thing in the morning. I think apart from Draco and Blaise, you were only one that hadn't had theirs yet," Theodore commented.

"Is Blaise not up yet?" Tracey asked, surprised as it was nearly lunch time. Theodore merely shook his head. "Well I wanted to go to the library. Do you know where it is?" Tracey asked. She'd been meaning to go since before they had even come to school, but had been sidetracked all week with all the work from their classes, not to mention homework.

"Yes. I'll come with you. There's some stuff I want to check out too."

**XxX**

Tracey sat on the ground, next to Theo, both of them with their noses buried in a book as they waited along with the rest of the Slytherin's for class to start. Today was their first Flying lesson, something Draco Malfoy had been unable to shut his yap about since the notice appeared on their noticeboard in the common room.

Ignoring the rest of her classmates, Tracey found herself deeply entrenched in the book she had gotten from the library. It had taken a couple of trips to the library for Tracey to finally find what she was looking for, considering that Madam Pince was incredibly unhelpful. And considering Legillimency had turned out to be an obscure and advanced branch of magic, she needed magical dictionaries and encyclopedias to get through the large tome.

The second week of school thus far, Tracey found was a bit better than the first now that she knew what to expect and found that she could get around the castle without assistance of the older Slytherins.

Her sleeping, was even a bit better thanks to the Potions Professor Snape had given her. However, the sleeping draught wasn't strong enough to keep her asleep through the whole night and she often found herself waking several hours before classes were to start. She supposed that she should probably see Professor Snape about that, but she didn't really want to bother the man. Besides, he said he would see her in a week, and really she didn't mind waiting.

Despite the fact that their first real encounter was much better than their first Potions lesson, Tracey found that she still felt confused and wary about her Head of House. She still didn't really know what to make of him.

"Do you two know how to do anything other than read?" Pansy asked loudly, scoffing as she stood over Tracey and Theodore, blocking the sunlight and casting a shadow over their reading.

"Just because you can't read, doesn't mean the rest of us can't enjoy it," Theodore commented in his quiet, serene tone.

"Well get up! It's highly undignified to be sitting in the dirt," Pansy commanded. Tracey rolled her eyes, however, did stand. "At least _you_ have some sense," Pansy sniffed, giving a grudging nod to Tracey who snorted in turn.

"I didn't stand for your sake. I expect class will be starting soon," Tracey commented as she stowed away the book she borrowed from the library. The more she read about Legilimency, the more she wondered if that was what she was doing. What she had been doing all her life.

However, while part of what she did, did seem an awful lot like Legilimency she wasn't entirely sure that's what it was. After all, she felt things from other people without having to look them in the eyes. And when she did see things and knew things when looking into a person's eyes, she wasn't aware of actively trying to look into a person's mind. It was all rather a bit confusing to Tracey, and she wasn't entirely sure what to make of it.

Unfortunately, she didn't have much more time to contemplate Legilimency and whether or not she was a Legilimens due to the arrival of Madam Hooch. As soon as she saw the woman's yellow eyes, Tracey was reminded of her mother and she wondered if her mother was doing well or not.

"Well what are you waiting for? Everyone stand by a broomstick. Come on, hurry up," Madam Hooch barked at them. Tracey lay her bag on the ground and was quick to move along with the rest of her classmates over a broomstick. Looking down at the thing, Tracey couldn't help feeling it was rather unimpressive.

However, she didn't have much time to think of it as she was flooded with jitters at the thought of flying. It was ten time's worse as she was sure she could feel the jitters of the rest of her classmates as well.

"Stick out your right hand over your broom and say UP!" Madam Hooch instructed from where she stood at the front.

Tracey furrowed her brow at the incredibly simplistic instructions. Turning to the broom on the ground, she extended her hand over the handle. "Up," she commanded simply, causing the broom to hover into her hand slowly, after some hesitation. The sight of a broom zooming speedily out of her periphery made her look up and she was surprised to see that Potter had managed it with such gusto.

Considering the fact that she had only seen him in one Potions class, her first impression of him was that he was a bit inept.

The next set of instructions had Tracey mounting her broom. Something that made her a bit uncomfortable considering the fact that it caused her robes and skirt to ride up quite a bit to do so. Tracey frowned and wondered who's bright idea it was to make girls wear skirts as part of their uniform, or to wear robes when riding a broom.

When Madam Hooch corrected her grip, Tracey couldn't help but flush at the hot skin of her instructor; she couldn't help but feel Madam Hooch's vitality as the slight touch. It was exhilarating and there was something else there that she couldn't quite identify, something she hadn't felt before. Looking up at the older woman, Tracey was a bit mortified at the woman who merely gave her a small encouraging smile, mistaking her look of horror for fear of flying, before moving on.

Tracey wondered what the hell that had been, before completely brushing it off and focusing on class. "Now, when I blow my whistle I want you to kick off the ground, hard. Keep your brooms steady, rise a few feet, and then come straight back down by leaning forward slightly. On my whistle- _three_- _two_-"

Before Madam Hooch could finish her instructions, Tracey noted a fat, Gryffindor boy that Professor Snape had terrorized, had pushed off the ground. She watched with mild fascination and slight horror as Neville Longbottom shot up in the air before falling off the end of his broom. She felt her heart rate increase and terror enter her the higher he rose, aware that the sentiments did not belong to her.

Tracey grit her teeth in frustration, and flinched in pain when Neville Longbottom fell on a heap in the ground.

"Are you all right?" Theo asked quietly, noticing how pale Tracey was as Madam Hooch looked over Nevill Longbottom. Tracey shook her head, the pain making her feel slightly nauseated. For a moment, she closed her eyes and took deep breaths, feeling loads better when Madam Hooch had left and taken Longbottom with her.

Tracey breathed a sigh of relief, suddenly feeling exhausted. Moving over and reaching for her bag, she pulled out the Awakening potion and an eyedropper. "What's that?" Theodore asked curiously, as they ignored Draco who was taunting someone while everyone else looked on, not paying the two Slytherins at the back of the group any mind.

"Awakening potion from Professor Snape," she replied, as she unstoppered the vial and used the eyedropper to extract some and dropping a single drop on her tongue before putting it all away.

"So that's how you've been staying awake in every class this week?" Theodore asked, his watery grey eyes shining with amusement, though he did not smile. Theodore wasn't really the smiling type, and Tracey was starting to find that it was rather rare for him to smile, smirk or even sneer.

"Yes," Tracey responded, not bothering to go into details as she grimaced at the vile taste of the potion. Even with only one drop, she found the taste a bit unbearable, like something had crawled into her mouth and died there. However, her attention was suddenly grabbed along with Theo's as Malfoy suddenly took to the air on his broom. "What are the chances that he'll be expelled for this when Madam Hooch gets back?"

"Impossible. His father is on the school's Board of Governors," Theo replied, also watching Draco with a look of slight envy on his face. Something Tracey could understand. Being as she lived in a muggle neighborhood and as her father had been a muggle, she'd never been able to fly before. She'd never even had a toy broom. She'd rather been looking forward to this lesson, though had also been anxious about it, as she wasn't even sure if she'd be any good at it.

"What are the chances we'll actually get to fly at all today, do you think?"

"I think for today, Longbottom and those two have ruined it for the rest of us," he said, motioning to Harry Potter who was suddenly in the air as well. Tracey groaned, wondering at the stupidity of her classmates.

**XxX**

Tracey was surprised a week later when she found herself as indignant as the rest of the Slytherins in their year when she heard about Harry Potter not only not being expelled for flying without supervision form a teacher, but had been given a top-of-the-line broom along with a position in his Houses' Quidditch team. It seemed incredibly absurd to her, even though she really didn't care very much about Quidditch. It rather felt like he was being rewarded for breaking the rules.

"Glad to see you've finally joined us, Davis," Malfoy drawled as he looked at her appraisingly for a moment. Tracey merely glared at Draco before turning in her stool and facing the font of the class, focusing her attention back on the book in her lap as they waited for Professor Snape.

"You walked right into that one," Theo commented, earning himself a glare from Tracey as they waited.

When the tell-tale sign that Professor Snape was coming into the class, by her classmates falling inordinately silent, Tracey reached down for her bag to stow away her book, however, dropped it in the process. As Professor Snape was walking down the center of the isle and just about to pass her up, he was quick to pick it up, giving it a cursory glance. However, his eyes stopped as he saw the title,_ A Comprehensive Guide to Legilimency_, before giving her a questioning look.

"Miss Davis, why pray tell, are you reading this?" he asked quietly from where he stood beside her table, not returning the book to her.

"It's not against the rules, sir. I got it from the library, and not the restricted section," Tracey quickly defended, sure that he disapproved. And she wasn't surprised really, considering that she was quite sure Legilimency must be a form of magic that the Ministry monitored strictly.

"You haven't answered my question," he replied quietly so that no one else could hear their conversation, although Tracey was quite sure Theo heard as he was sitting right next to her. However, he was too engaged in his book that Tracey wasn't sure if he was paying attention or not.

Tracey found Professor Snape was trying to catch her eyes and immediately looked away as it dawned on her._ Professor Snape must be a Legilimens, that's why his eyes seem to pierce your soul when you look into them!_ Tracey thought as she stared pointedly at her hands clasped in her lap. She was aware from her reading that Legilimency required the practitioner to look in the eyes of the person whose minds they were trying to enter.

The bell ringing, signifying the beginning of class, seemed to save her. "See me after class, Miss Davis," Professor Snape instructed as he strode away, not returning her book. Tracey almost groaned aloud as Professor Snape strode to the front, depositing her book on his desk, before starting lesson.

"Just what were you reading, Trace?" Theo asked as he stowed away the book he'd been reading, making it apparent to her that he _had_ been paying attention.

"An obscure branch of magic, but it's not like I was planning on practicing it," Tracey explained irritably, though she wasn't entirely sure about that; at least she didn't plan on _purposely_ trying Legilimency.

As class wore on, Tracey found that Professor Snape kept giving her curious glances. This was only broken up when he was correcting others, or picking on Potter. Today with particular emphasis due to the fact that he was aware of the fact that Potter had been given a broom.

Tracey frowned as class went on, trying to concentrate on her work and actually help Theo with their Potion. However, Theodore wasn't having it. He seemed to notice that she was distracted and wouldn't really allow her to help him with it, stating that she was just going to muck it up for the both of them. Tracey sighed in frustration.

Now and then, she wondered if she were in trouble as she looked over at her Head of House. Clearly, he was not pleased with her choice in reading material. She couldn't help panicking slightly, as she wondered what she was supposed to say to him in response to his question. She couldn't well tell him that she felt and saw things, could she? _He'd think I'm crazy,_ Tracey thought.

The end of class came much too soon, and Tracey waited with baited breath as the last student exited before approaching Professor Snape's desk. "Care to explain?" he asked as the last student shut the door, while picking up _A Comprehensive Guide.._. briefly and motioning to it, before setting it back down.

Tracey chewed on her lip, as her gaze stayed fix on the hard-leather cover. "I was just curious about it. Mr. Ollivander mentioned Legilimency to me when I got my wand and I couldn't ask my mother about it, she was too busy."

"Why would Mr. Ollivander mention Legilimency to you?" Professor Snape asked skeptically, arching a brow at his first year.

"Isn't that... well private?" Tracey asked uncertainly. A sudden spike in the man's ire made her cringe.

"Not particularly, no, and certainly not to me. I am your Head of House and therefore in charge of not only your education but your well-being," he told her coldly, crossing his arms over the expanse of his broad chest.

Tracey sighed in resignation. It was no use lying to him, and she knew now why. Not to mention, she still did not want to get on her Head of House's bad side, especially now that she knew how cruel he could be. Besides that, she had grown to understand Gemma Farley's words from her welcoming speech and saw what she meant when she said one couldn't hope for a better Head of House. Tracey found that Professor Snape really did care for them, and took an active interest in them.

When she'd gone to see the man the previous Saturday to update him on how her sleeping was going, he had made adjustments to the dose she took and she found this week that with those adjustments, she could actually sleep through the night. Something that she was rather grateful for, as she was significantly less tired during her lessons now.

"Mr. Ollivander mentioned it because of my wand. He said the wood my wand is made out of is especially suited to Seers and Legilimens. But I'm not a Seer, as far as I know there are no Seer's in my family history and I didn't know what a Legilimens was, so I looked it up. The book says there are people born with predispositions to being Legilimens."

Tracey felt the mood of the Professor suddenly change, causing her to look up at him. "And you think that you are?"

"Well I'm not sure. I don't see how a person can be predisposed to being a Legilimens. I mean, they have a chapter on Occlumency, and they state people predisposed to being Occlumens are highly private or untrusting people, and it is in their nature to keep other's out. But I don't see how anyone can be predisposed to being a Legilimens. I mean, it's not like being curious or nosy gives you that power... because if so than wouldn't everyone be Legilimens? I mean it _is_ human nature to be curious."

"I think the predisposition is more likely connected to how intuitive a person is," Professor Snape commented thoughtfully, as he regarded her smaller form with a piercing gaze and a frown. "What aren't you telling me, Miss Davis? You're a very bright girl, I know that you are aware that deceiving me is not an option."

"No, Professor Snape, I know," Tracey bit her lip at the confirmation of what she had already suspected. "However... I'm not sure if I can trust you. If I tell you, you'll just think I'm crazy. Worst case scenario, you'll-" Tracey cut herself off. She was about to say she thought that he might exploit her. However, as she thought over his actions in his short acquaintance with her, she found herself shaking her head. "No, you wouldn't do that. But you might just think I'm crazy and I'm not."

"Trust is earned, Miss Davis, I understand that. However, I will give you the benefit of the doubt and not think you're crazy. As I said, you are a bright girl, very intelligent; that is obvious, and I know the difference between lunacy and sanity."

Tracey nodded her head, looking up into his dark eyes. If the desk were not between them, she would've had to crane her neck to do so, as he was such a tall man. A part of Tracey was pleased that someone noticed the fact that she was smart. She couldn't help the sense of pride she felt that it was acknowledged by Professor Snape, who only ever praised Draco Malfoy in class.

However, the other part of Tracey felt some fear. Her heart raced, as she realized that she at least trusted him enough to believe that statement, and that she had to tell him. Nodding her head firmly to herself, Tracey tried to ignore her trepidation at revealing her longest kept secret.

"I've never told anyone this before, not even my mother," Tracey commented, licking her lips which were dry. He merely nodded his head, something flashing in his dark eyes as she mentioned her mother. "I don't even know how to explain it."

"Do your best, take your time," he advised simply.

Tracey once more nodded at his suggestion and shifted her feet and adjusting the strap of her satchel. "I feel things... like emotions that I _know_ aren't my own," she explained, looking up at him and noticing his frown she quickly went on. "They're other people's feelings, but I feel them as though they are mine. The only reason I know they aren't mine, is because they seem to come out of nowhere and it's not just that. I can feel places too. Like I can feel the castle, and I don't mean tactilely. And sometimes, when I look into people's eyes, I know things about them, things I should have no way of knowing."

"What do you mean, Miss Davis, you can feel the sentiments of others as if they were your own? Can you give me examples?" he asked with a furrowed brow, trying to grasp everything she was saying.

"First day of Potions," Tracey stated, because it was the first thing that came to mind. "I felt an incomprehensible and massive amount of hatred for Harry Potter," she stated carefully, eyeing him for a reaction wondering if he knew that it was his emotions that she was telling him about. However, no recognition seemed to appear in his dark gaze.

"I don't know him, and honestly I'm quite indifferent about him, even if he's a Gryffindor and our Houses are supposed to hate each other. There is only one person I've ever felt hatred for, that could even come close to what I felt that day, and it's not Potter. The hatred and anger was so strong, it felt like my body was on fire. It was incredibly uncomfortable, it was almost painful to withstand," Tracey paused, still not seeing anything but a neutral expression on his face. "It was your hatred, sir," she finished, her voice becoming very quiet and almost a whisper as she said this.

She was almost afraid to look at him, as she noted as she went on how his feelings rose to the surface, inside her. There was anger, indignation there inside her, directed at her very self. Never being one for self-loathing before, Tracey knew they were not her own. However, they quelled after a moment as she watched conflicting emotions within. Professor Snape was trying to control his initial reactions.

"I see," he commented coldly as he tried to contain himself from snapping at her. "And how do you know that was so, Miss Davis?"

"It's just something I know tacitly," she shrugged. "I would probably know the reason behind it but for some reason that kind of thing doesn't happen with you," she said, furrowing her brow until the answer dawned at her and she looked up at him. _Of course, he must be an Occlumens._

"What kind of thing?"

"Before I knew Theodore, before I even knew his name, I saw him on the platform with his father. At least, with a man I think is his father. I could feel Theodore's fear towards the man... he's deathly afraid of his father because... well I'm quite sure the man abuses him," Tracey commented, aware she was probably saying more than she should. However, she supposed it didn't matter. She felt that Professor Snape didn't fully believe her, though an odd expression she could not decipher flashed through his eyes momentarily at the mention of Mr. Nott. "I could feel the school too you know. I can feel how old she is. I can feel her warmth. It's like the castle is... like she's the mother all of us within her walls."

Professor Snape sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose suddenly. "Miss Davis... what you are speaking of, what you describe is not Legilimency. Legilimency, yes it allows you access to a person's memories and to an extent their emotions... but what you are describing... I'm not even sure what it is."

Tracey frowned. "Then what's wrong with me?"

At that Professor Snape looked up at her sharply. "Nothing, Miss Davis. Or does this cause you a problem?"

"Well... it'd be nice if I didn't have to feel other people's emotions. I think dealing with my own is more than enough, especially as it's not always pleasant. It's exhausting."

"Miss Davis... give me some time. I shall look into your... unique talents and get back to you. Perchance I'll come across a way to help you deal with _it_, and figure out what _it_ even is."

Tracey furrowed her brow but merely nodded. "And the book?"

"Legilimency is not a form of magic we will condone in our students learning, especially not first years, Miss Davis. This book should have been in the restricted section," he commented. Tracey sighed, knowing now that she was not going to be getting it back. "You may go, Miss Davis."

Tracey merely nodded, turning on her heel to leave. However, she felt strangely unburdened as she did.

**TBC...**


	6. Book 1, Chapter 6: Look Out For You

**~X~x~X~**

**The Wallflowers**

**~X~x~X~**

**Book 1: Sorcerer's Stone**

**Chapter 6:**

**But I Promise You This, I'll Always Look Our For You, That's What I'll Do.**  
_(Sparks- Coldplay)_

"Tracey," Tracey and Theodore both looked up at the sound of her name. Tracey raised a brow as she found herself once more looking up at Gemma Farley. The fifth year girl had her Prefect badge pinned to her navy blue sweater, which was not buttoned up revealing her white shirt beneath. Belatedly, Tracey realized Gemma was wearing muggle attire and wondered if that meant the girl was a half-blood like Tracey. She noticed that most Slytherins wore robes the last several weeks even on weekends.

"Yeah?" Tracey asked, wondering why the older brunette girl was looking for her.

"Professor Dumbledore would like to see you in his office," the girl informed her, causing Tracey's eyes to widen.

"Why?" she asked, completely bewildered as to what the Headmaster could possibly want with her.

Gemma shrugged her shoulders. "Professor Snape didn't say."

Tracey furrowed her brow, "Does Professor Snape want to see me or Professor Dumbledore?"

Once more, Gemma shrugged casually. "Both I guess, they're both in Dumbledore's office. So come on girlie, hop to it. I don't have all day to escort you," Gemma smiled, flashing perfectly white, straight teeth. Tracey furrowed her brow, but complied with the older girl. Gathering her things, she draped her bag over her shoulder.

"I guess I'll see you later, Theo," Tracey stated, the mousy-haired boy merely nodded, his grey eyes never leaving the book he poured over. Tracey rolled her eyes and merely turned to go, following Gemma Farley out of the Library. For a while, the pair of Slytherin girls made their way through the corridors in silence.

Tracey, not wanting to think about what Professor Snape and Professor Dumbledore could possibly want to see her about, turned her attention to the brunette. Like the first night, she noted that Gemma Farley was tall and a well built girl with an hourglass figure. She was a very attractive girl, with straight, dark-brown hair which was currently pulled back in a half-ponytail, a few short strands framing her face. In the light streaming in from the windows they passed, Tracey could actually see that the girl's eyes were a russet-brown. Due to the fact that the dungeons were not the best lit territory in the castle, far from it in fact, that exact shades of color were hard to see. Everything looked so much darker, and most people's eyes looked black down there.

"Am I that fascinating, Tracey?" Gemma laughed suddenly as she caught Tracey's eye and winking at her as they made their way down a couple flights of stairs to the second floor. Tracey would have blushed, if she found that she cared. Instead, she was too busy focused on the teenage girl.

Pansy didn't like Gemma Farley. At night, when Tracey merely sat in her four-poster reading, Pansy and Daphne gossiped while Millie played with her cat, Sprinkles. On one of those nights, Tracey happened to hear a bit about Gemma Farley. There were apparently rumors in Slytherin that the girl was a lesbian, something that for some reason or other, Pansy thought was equal parts hilarious and disgusting.

For her part, Tracey didn't care about anyone's sexual orientation. Personally, she didn't see what the problem was. However, as she watched Gemma Farley, she wondered if that was true. She'd never met or had known of anyone same-sex oriented and she was... curious.

"You know Tracey, doll, if you keep looking at me like that, people will think you're the same as me," Gemma teased.

"Is it true then?" Tracey couldn't help asking. For a moment, Gemma stopped and turned to look down at Tracey's eyes. Despite the fact that Tracey was one of the tallest girls in her year, Gemma was rather tall for her year as well. As it was, the top of Tracey's head hardly reached the older girls collar bone. However, as Tracey looked into Gemma's eyes, she found that Gemma didn't have to answer it. She already knew it was true, and knew that Gemma had a predilection for dark-haired girls, just by looking into Gemma's cinnamon-colored eyes.

"If you were a few years older, I'd eat you up," Gemma said with a broad grin, leaning down so that her face was very close to Tracey's. Tracey felt that Gemma expected Tracey to recoil in disgust, however, Tracey stayed put; merely staring into Gemma's eyes. It was a game to Gemma, Gemma used her sexuality to freak people out at times out of anger.

"You're very pretty Gemma, but I don't think I like girls. I'm not even sure if I like boys yet... but I find you tolerable. There are not many girls I can say that about."

At this, Gemma looked genuinely surprised before laughing. "Oh, Tracey, you're a doll!" Gemma exclaimed, unexpectedly wrapping her arms around Tracey.

Tracey was flooded with a great deal of sadness, self-loathing, anger, confusion and... longing. Longing to be loved, a feeling that Tracey was already all-too-familiar with and she couldn't help reciprocating the hug she received. She knew Gemma needed the hug as much as she did, and as she soaked up the warmth of the elder girl's embrace, she found herself thinking about her mother. _Gemma is willing to give me a hug and she hardly even knows me, why can't mother do the same, _Tracey wondered bitterly.

It was October, and she had yet to write even once to her mother. Her mother, had equally not written to her at all.

Gemma pulled away, a tinge of pink spattering her cheeks as she smiled warmly down at Tracey. "Well, come on kiddo, I should get you to the Headmater's before Professor Snape rips my head off," Gemma stated, turning around with a bounce still in her step as they walked.

Tracey walked along beside Gemma, hardly paying attention to the route they took. As they did so, Tracey found herself wondering how many of her housemates came from unhappy homes. How many like herself, Gemma and Theodore were starved for affection.

Her thoughts were put to a halt when they came before a Gargoyle statue. She'd seen it before, and had been told that it led to the Headmasters office, however, she had never given it much thought. "Well here we are," Gemma piped up. "Bertie Botts."

Tracey furrowed her brow in confusion, however, when the Gargoyle moved away, revealing a spiraling staircase, Tracey understood. "Thanks, Gemma, I'll see you," Tracey stated as she mounted the steps, giving the older girl a very small smile. Gemma saluted her before spinning on her heel and bouncing away. Tracey shook her head in amusement as she rode the spiraling steps, wondering how Gemma could be so energetic and happy looking when inside there was so much darkness and pain within her.

However, all thoughts of Gemma flew out of her mind when she found herself standing before a door. Stepping to it, she chewed on her bottom lip as she hesitantly knocked, willing away the nervous flutters in her stomach. "Come in," she heard a voice call.

Tracey turned the nob and stepped into the Headmaster's office, shutting the door quietly behind her. Immediately her eyes were assaulted by an array of stimuli. Her eyes widened, trying to take in all the objects, the furniture, the occupants, the portraits. However, it was a bit of an overload and for a moment, all she could do was stand at the door, wide-eyed with wonder.

"Miss Davis," a warm, affectionate voice chuckled, drawing Tracey's eyes to the Headmaster. "I see that you are impressed by my office, but please, come and join us. Professor Snape has been telling me... wonderfully interesting things about you."

Tracey, who had been approaching the Headmaster's desk, suddenly stopped. Ripping her eyes away from the half-moon spectacles, she turned her gaze to Professor Snape, who was standing beside a chair he'd previously been occupying when she came in. Upon noticing the slightly apprehensive look on Professor Snape's face, it dawned on Tracey why she was there.

She couldn't help the sense of betrayal she felt, suddenly clenching her fists in a tight grip. She found herself glaring at the dark-haired man as she attempted to control her breathing, which was suddenly quick and shallow. "You told!" she accused, trying to push the hurt away, and for once actually sounding like a child her age.

"Now Tracey, I know you must feel... betrayed. However, Professor Snape is only looking out for your best interest. Considering that Professor Snape has never come across someone like you, he had to inform me, as I am the best suited to explain a few things to you. Now, is it really so terrible that he told me?"

Tracey looked at the man with silvery white hair and beard and sparkling blue eyes. Focusing her attention on him, she tried to ignore the way her heart was beating rapidly, and the hatred she suddenly felt for her Head of House. Instead, she focused on the kindly smiling old man and thought. However, her features didn't soften as her eyes took him.

"You can fool everyone else into thinking you're little more than a kindly, grandfatherly, dotty old man, but not me," Tracey all but snarled, backing away.

"Miss Davis-" Professor Snape started, fully intending to chastise his young pupil, however, he was silenced by a gesture of Albus Dumbledore's hand.

"Tracey, I understand trust for you is not easy. However, we are not trying to hurt you and we would never use you," Professor Dumbledore stated softly, his voice full of sincerity.

"You lie!" Tracey accused, hating the traitorous tears that sprouted in her eyes. "You're a user, you use people! You use him," Tracey pointed to Professor Snape, not sure what she was spouting but knowing that it was true. "And you use anyone you think will help the Greater Good."

Professor Snape paled at this, and looked at Tracey like she was a ghost... or rather looked like a muggle who had seen a ghost. Professor Dumbledore's face hardened slightly at her accusation, but she could see some genuine pain behind his blue eyes, before it all ceased and all Tracey could feel was her own fear and anger. Backing away, Tracey turned and headed for the door, intending to leave, but found the door wouldn't budge when she tried the handle.

"Professor Snape, if you would," Professor Dumbledore said and before Tracey even knew what was happening, she found her head tilted back in a firm grip and a potion poured down her throat. She sputtered a bit as she tried to get away from Professor Snape's grip, but he'd wrapped his free hand around her midsection, pinning her hands to the side as he did so, that she could not move. His cool calloused hand, which was smoother than she'd expected though still a bit rough, rubbed her throat, helping ease the potion down.

Her head fell back against the man's chest, tilting her head and from an almost upside down angle, she glared up at the man behind her holding her captive as she felt the potion's effects suddenly wash over her. _Calming Draught_, she thought dryly to herself as she felt like all her insides were numbed. Despite the predicament, she couldn't help but notice how tall Professor Snape really was, from up close. With her head tilted back as it was, it fell inches short of his collarbone.

Professor Snape released her when he saw that the potion had taken effect. Turning around slowly, Tracey allowed herself indifferently to be guided by a pair of firm hands on her shoulders to sit in the seat opposite of the Headmaster's desk. "You will sit and listen, Miss Davis, and not a word out of you unless spoken to or asked, do I make myself clear?" Professor Snape commanded sternly.

Tracey grudgingly nodded as she looked at Professor Dumbledore, still feeling a smidgen of anger towards both men. However, her heart rate and breathing had returned to normal and she didn't feel so agitated.

"I'm sorry Tracey, but it had to be done. You could've harmed yourself or others with the emotional upheaval's you felt. Now I know that this is hard for you, and you don't believe what I have to say, but you must listen."

Tracey didn't say anything as she crossed her arms over her chest and looked away from both men, turning her gaze instead to look up at the portraits. She distinctly heard Professor Dumbledore sigh, as she watched the portraits, noting that many were sleeping, or pretending to, while other's were looking on with interest.

"From my understanding of what Professor Snape has told me about your abilities, Miss Davis, it sounds to me like you are an Empath," Professor Dumbledore started slowly. Tracey's face slowly turned to look at the man as she arched an eyebrow at him. Desperately, she tried to stamp down on the suddenly overwhelming desire to know what he had to say.

"Empaths can feel the emotions of other people. Due to the highly intuitive nature of Empaths, they often have a great talent for Legilimency, this is the reason why you know things about people you should not," Professor Dumbledore started slowly once he noted he had her full attention, his voice soothing and soft, but still sounding like a Professor giving a lecture. "However, Empaths are also able to feel... places, or rather the imprint left there... the memories. Your ability to feel others and places is greatly increased during physical contact, you may or may not have already noticed this.

"But your abilities are not simply limited to being a... _receiver,_ if you will. With proper learning, you could be able project sentiments you wish to project onto others around you. And if you so desire, you could even shut it off whenever you wish. However, it would take a good deal of training and discipline on your part."

"I've never heard of Empaths before," Tracey commented grudgingly, though her tone was in deadpan.

"That is because they are often mistaken for Seers, or Legilimens. And like Seers and Metamorphmagi, Empaths are a somewhat rare occurrence, although unlike Seers I don't believe that it is something genetic, though I couldn't say for sure," Professor Dumbledore explained, his twinkle returning a bit as he smiled at her gently.

"Well then, how do I learn to control it? Or to shut if off?" Tracey asked a bit impatient and annoyed. It rather sounded to her like whatever it was she was, wasn't exactly something you could just go and read about like Legilimency. In fact, it rather sounded like people didn't know the difference and therefore wouldn't document it. The realization that she was probably right in thinking that if she told anyone about her _abilities_, as they called them, that she'd be shipped off to the Department of Mysteries for study made her feel cold. She felt sick suddenly.

"We've never allow you to be treated like an experiment, Miss Davis," Dumbledore soothed, as if he'd read her mind. _Probably did,_ Tracey thought with a grimace. She stared at Dumbledore for a moment, unconsciously nodding her head slowly. _Yes, he was definitely another Legilimens, like Snape_, she decided. "And I think that perhaps, that many of the exercises for Occlumency would help you control your abilities. However, I can't be sure... due to the fact that Empaths are often mislabeled, I'm afraid not a lot is known about them."

"Well how do I learn Occlumency to try and see if it works?" Tracey asked.

Here, the twinkle in Professor Dumbledore's eyes almost became palpable. "Professor Snape is a Master Occlumens. I am sure he should be able to teach you when you are a little older and your magic more developed."

"Isn't there anyone else?" Tracey asked with a frown. A scoff from behind her alerted her to Professor Snape's presence still in the room, a fact she had momentarily forgotten. However, she couldn't bring herself to care that she had offended him, anymore than she could bring herself to care at present that she was being rude. And despite the Calming Draught, she felt both men rather deserved it and so much more.

"I'm afraid not, of course I could teach you myself, but I am a busy man and somehow I don't think the idea of it would appeal to you any more," he explained.

"I think I'd rather stumble through it blindly," Tracey commented, crossing her arms firmly over her small, flat chest. "May I go now, _Professor_?"

"Very well, Miss Davis. However, I do wish you would give yourself and Professor Snape a chance." Tracey didn't say anything to this as she jumped out of her seat and strode over quickly to the door. When she tried to turn the knob, she found that the door still wouldn't budge and turned to aim a glare at Professor Dumbledore who regarded her with a sad, pitying look. "I'm also sorry that he broke your faith."

Tracey shot a glare at the man in black, who currently had his back to her. However, Professor Dumbledore shook his head. "It is not Professor Snape, of whom I am referring to."

**TBC...**

**A/n: **REVIEW!


	7. Book 1, Chapter 7: Fear and Panic

**A/n: **Thank you to me-halcyon for reviewing. Glad someone is actually enjoying this story. :)

**~X~x~X~**

**The Wallflowers**

**~X~x~X~**

**Book 1: Sorcerer's Stone**

**Chapter 7:**

**Fear And Panic In The Air. I Want To Be Free of Desolation And Despair. And I Feel Like Everything I Sow, Is Being Swept Away. **  
_(Map Of The Problematique- Muse)_

"Miss D-Davis... I'd.. r-r-really prefer t-t-that you d-did not r-read in my class," Professor Quirrell stuttered as he closed the book she was reading while he lectured. Tracey looked up into the light brown eyes of the young Professor and frowned. Though Tracey always tried to be mindful of authority figures, she'd come to the conclusion that she simply could not bring herself to respect Professor Quirrell. Though she was sure he was bright and intelligent, she found his bumbling around ridiculous and found him to be an inadequate Professor. "Next t-time, I shall have t-to inform y-y-your Head of H-house."

Tracey glared at the man as he walked away. "Don't worry about him, Tracey. I'm sure he's too afraid of Professor Snape to tell on you," a voice whispered next to her. Tracey turned and merely shrugged at Daphne. Being as Professor Quirrell had assigned their seats, Tracey found herself sitting next to Daphne Greengrass, however, they rarely spoke. Daphne seemed to find early on that Tracey was difficult to make conversation with and most of the time she couldn't be bothered to really make an attempt.

Later on in the day, as Tracey made her way back to the school from flying lessons along with the rest of the Slytherins, Tracey found herself tripping in the Great Hall. Her nose, like Theodore's beside her, had been lodged in a book, and her inattention caused her a momentary bout of clumsiness. Her book went flying out of her hands and landing with a resounding _thump!_ However, instead of finding herself on the floor like her book, someone caught her arm and helped her stay on her feet.

Before Tracey could be embarrassed about tripping as some of her classmates snickered, or grateful someone caught her and kept her from becoming further embarrassed, she was flooded with darkness unlike any she had ever felt before; it was cold and completely devoid of any light, or warmth. It was the most unpleasant feeling she ever felt, and she felt it was drowning her, or choking her, trying to snuff out her own light.

Straightening herself, Tracey looked up, wide-eyed with terror and found herself looking at the kind face of Professor Quirrell. A realization that would have stunned her, if she were not so stricken with fear.

Tracey snatched her arm away with such force that she found herself stumbling back and falling on her behind as she continued to look at Professor Quirrell with terror and panic. When he moved to reach out for her and help her up, Tracey couldn't help emitting a shriek as she crawled away backwards, flinching from his touch.

"Tracey, what's wrong with you?" Theodore asked, having witnessed the whole thing with growing confusion while the rest of the Slytherins laughed hard. Tracey, who was pale enough naturally, had become deathly pale. Her wide eyes looked like they were going to pop out of her head at any moment.

"Davis, you're such a freak!" Pansy shrieked, giggling, while Professor Quirrell looked bewildered and slightly flustered at Tracey's reaction to him.

"What is going on here?" a velvety voice rang out, immediately silencing the laughing Slytherins. However, Tracey remained on the floor, her chest heaving in her panic as her body began to tremble.

"I'm not sure... Miss D-Davis-"

"I do not have time for your stammering, Quirrell. Mr. Nott, explain," Snape said, cutting rudely across Quirrell as he stood next to him and examined the scene with his dark eyes. His brow furrowed in concern as he stared down at Tracey who was still on the floor and sickly pale.

"Tracey tripped and was falling, but Professor Quirrell caught her and I'm not sure, sir, but she started to..."

"Freak out," Pansy supplanted when Theodore's words faltered as he moved to help Tracey to her feet. However, she recoiled form his touch as well for a moment before allowing him to help her to her feet. Her legs threatening to buckle beneath her had she not been leaning heavily on her taller, lanky friend.

Theodore's warmth, and the serene calm he always carried with himself, washed over her and Tracey couldn't help wrapping her arms around the thin boy and burying her face in his crook. Theodore awkwardly wrapped his arms around his friend, never having much experience with affection, but unwilling to turn his friend away when she clearly needed comfort. He frowned as he could still feel her shaking in his arms.

Professor Snape frowned not really sure what was going on. "Professor Quirrell, I will handle this form here. Mr. Nott, you will help me get Miss Davis down to my office to sort this out, as for the rest of you... there is nothing to see here, but I think I may just have to remind you what it means to be a Slytherin this evening," Professor Snape commanded sternly, before dropping his voice to a dangerous silky tone, dispersing the crowd as he picked up what he assumed was Tracey's book before moving ahead of Theodore and leading the way down to his office.

Since the meeting in the Headmaster's office at the beginning of the month, Tracey had maintained as much distance as she could from her Head of House. Often times in class, she tried to ignore his presence as much as possible, though during lectures she found it hard to keep from glaring the man, even as she attempted to pay attention to her lesson.

Once they were inside Professor Snape's office, and Theodore had maneuvered the still shaken girl into a seat and gotten her to take a Calming Draught, Snape sent Theodore away. Tracey stared down at her lap, refusing to look at Snape as she felt his eyes on her.

"Well, Miss Davis? Would you care to explain what that scene was about?"

"He touched me," Tracey said with shrug of her shoulders, not really wanting to speak to the man, however thinking it was more shrewd not to test his patience.

"And?" Professor Snape asked impatiently.

Tracey swallowed the lump in her throat, shivering as she recalled the what she had felt from the man. Looking up, with brows furrowed in confusion she met Professor Snape's gaze for the first time in many weeks. "There's no light in him, he's not... there is something _wrong_ with him... everyone has some light in them... It's like he's... evil."

At this, Professor Snape fell silent, his brow furrowed so deeply it created a crease in the center of his forehead.

**XxX**

Tracey sighed as she sat down next to Theodore. Everyone appeared to know about her little incident earlier that day, and they were all laughing at her. Some of the older students even made snide remarks about her, despite Professor Snape having come into Slytherin after the incident and having given everyone a thorough talking to about House unity.

"Don't worry about them, Trace," someone commented. Tracey looked up, just in time to see Gemma Farley sit down next to her and wrap a comforting arm around her shoulders. Tracey felt the familiar desire for love and affection, and merely melted into Gemma's side, glad that someone other than Theodore wasn't making fun of her. Although, Theodore kept casting her pitying looks. "Just ignore them."

Tracey was so completely out of it that she didn't even notice the Great Hall's decorations in honor of Halloween, or the fact that the food had already appeared on platters before them. However, before anyone could really begin to eat, the doors of the Great Hall burst open and Quirrell came running in with a look of sheer terror on his face. Tracey couldn't quite bring herself to look at the man.

"That's who you are terrified of, Davis?" Tracey heard the smug, arrogant voice of Draco Malfoy call out. She didn't even have to look over at the platinum-blonde to know that he was smirking.

"Shut it Malfoy, or I'll give you a detention," Gemma snarled.

Tracey smiled at the older girl gratefully. However, Theo and the rest of the Slytherins were all busy watching Quirrell who had by now reached the High Table and before Professor Dumbledore.

"Troll- in the dungeons- thought you ought to know," Quirrel gasped, before fainting. Almost immediately the whole hall burst into panic and pandemonium as students shrieked and yelled, jumping out of their seats. Tracey was sure that if it were for Gemma's physical touch, flooding her with the older girl's strength and calm, she would have fainted dead away with the violent flood of everyone's panic hitting her full force. As it was, she still had trouble getting to her feet when Gemma got up and helped her off the bench.

"All of you, settle down. JUGSON, help!" Gemma instructed, trying to make herself heard to the Slytherins despite the noise and chaos. A set of purple sparks shooting from the front of the Hall caused everyone to quiet and settle down, and to turn to look at Professor Dumbledore who had risen from his seat.

"Prefects, please escort your Houses to the dormitories immediately," he instructed loudly. Immediately, all the Prefects jumped into action, leading and herding the students in their houses.

"SLYTHERINS, with me!" a deep, gravelly voice called. Tracey could barely look up to see the large, burly fifth year boy named Jugson as he started to lead the way out of the Great Hall while the other Prefects stayed and watched the stream, herding them all tightly together.

"Tracey, doll, are you all right to walk on your own?"

Tracey shook her head. There was a light sheen of sweat covering her skin, and she was once more extremely pale and still leaning heavily on Gemma.

In response, Gemma sighed. "All right, just stick close to me."

Tracey nodded, feeling even sicker doing so and putting a stop to it. She was barely hanging on, clutching tightly to Gemma's robes as Gemma moved about. It was some time later when she felt herself ensconced away at the back of the herd. Tracey wondered if this year could get any worse.

One thing she was certain of was that she had to find away to block everyone's emotions. For a moment, she lamented the fact that she wasn't normal and wished she were. She could see no benefit at all from her abilities and wished they would just shut off!

**XxX**

For the following several days, Tracey found that wherever she went, she couldn't get away from the ridicule of her house-mates; the most persistent and vicious of which were Pansy and Draco. Even during class, there was no getting away from their mockery, as they often passed notes to her, with badly drawn figurines that were supposed to be her and Quirrell.

However, that wasn't really the worst. The worst were the sympathetic looks she got from Theo and Gemma and sometimes even Blaise, who'd begun treating her like she was fragile. Tracey _hated_ that.

Tracey felt she needed a place to hide, somewhere to get away from the mousy-haired boy and the fifth year girl. Normally, the library would have been her first option, but Tracey found it far from ideal as it was Theo's favored haunt and Gemma herself spent quite some time there. However, Tracey couldn't think of any other place.

Laying in bed, Tracey stared at her ceiling, for once not having her nose buried in a book as she thought. Her wand lay in her hand, which was draped across her chest as she stared at the ceiling. The green silk curtains were drawn around her poster, and being it was midday saturday, her dorm-mates were out.

Closing her eyes, Tracey listened to the sound of the lake water, lapping against the windows. The sound was really rather soothing, and had a lulling effect. However, Tracey didn't want to sleep. She just wanted to think.

Unfortunately, before Tracey could continue to do so, she found her curtains wrenched. Sitting up, she stared wide-eyed at Gemma Farley, who stood over her. "Tracey... you can't avoid everyone, including your friends, forever. Now get out of bed, get your cloak, gloves and scarf and come with me."

Tracey groaned as she dropped her legs over the side of her bed. "Why do I need my cloak, gloves and scarf?" Tracey asked as she pulled on her grey canvas sneakers, not bothering to lace them.

"Because it's cold out, and we're going to the game. Our House is playing against the Gryffindors!" Gemma told Tracey excitedly, practically bouncing on her toes. Tracey stopped at her trunk, her cloak and scarf in hand as she stared at Gemma with a look that pleaded with Gemma to be joking. However, the Prefect seemed perfectly serious as she snapped at Tracey to hurry.

Tracey groaned as she put on her cloak and wrapped her green and silver scarf around her throat. She had only managed to stow away her wand in her pocket and snatch up her gloves when Gemma snatched her by the arm and dragged her out of Slytherin. "Come on Tracey, we're going to be late," Gemma called as she ran, dragging Tracey along behind her.

Despite the fact that Tracey was tall for her age, she was having a hard time keeping up with the elder Slytherin girl. By the time they reached the Slytherin stands, she was panting for breath and glaring up at the older girl. They made it just in time to watch the game kick off, and despite Tracey's lack of enthusiasm towards Quidditch, she couldn't help the flood of excitement and endorphins that flooded through her.

Before long, she was jumping and shouting at the top of her lungs along with the rest of Slytherin. Tracey felt happier than she had in such a long time, that she didn't even care that the emotions she was experiencing were caused by the atmosphere around her, and not because they actually belonged to her. The fact that Gemma stayed right next to her, jumping along and cheering and booing, kept those whose attention wasn't totally caught by the game, to keep their mouth's shut about her.

As Tracey watched streaks of green and scarlet flying back and forth, nearly indiscernible to her, she thought that it might have been a good idea to bring her glasses. She really couldn't see anything. However, this could do nothing to dampen her spirit.

"Go ADRIAN!" Gemma yelled as Tracey watched a blur of green speeding towards the Gryffindor goal posts, only to boo as the boy was interpreted by a Bludger. "That's Adrian Pucey, nice bloke but a bit of a neat-freak," Gemma pointed out to Tracey. Tracey merely shrugged her shoulders, as she was unable to actually really see the boy that Gemma was referring to.

"BOOOOO!" Tracey yelled as Gryffindor scored their first point.

"Bletchely, he's such a tosser," Gemma muttered under her breath as she shook her head in disgust as their Keeper.

"Why aren't there any girls on our team anyway?" Tracey asked, only just noticing the lack of girls on the Slytherin team.

"Because Flint is an idiot. He tends to pick brawn over talent," Gemma responded with a shake of her head. "GO ADRIAN!" Gemma suddenly shouted once more as she noted Adrian Pucey once more had the Quaffle. She started to jump up and down, much to Tracey's amusement, as the boy passed the Beaters and some bludgers. However, just before he was about to score, he dropped the Quaffle, turning to look over his shoulder as a little sparkle seemed to fly past him.

Slytherin groaned as they watched Potter and Higgs take off, with Potter in the lead. However, before he was able to reach the Snitch, Marcus Flint blocked Potter, sending him into a tail spin.

"Isn't that cheating?" Tracey asked.

"Tracey, we play to win, by any means necessary," Gemma commented, winking down at Tracey who nodded her head. However, she wasn't quite sure how she felt about that. However, considering Gryffindor got a foul shot, she couldn't bring herself to really care as she groaned along with the rest of her House. They were officially falling behind.

"What's going on there?" Tracey asked Gemma sometime later as she watched the little scarlet blur she had grown to recognize as Potter started to jerk around on his broom.

Gemma furrowed her brow as she watched in fascination. "I don't know... it kind of looks like his broom is trying to buck him off-"

"But a broom couldn't do that... unless it's been tampered with, but he was flying just fine before."

"Unless someone's cursing it," Gemma commented, her brow still furrowed as more and more people started to notice Potter's odd behavior. "But who would want to do that? The talent and power alone for that would be phenomenal."

Tracey furrowed her brow, her eyes unconsciously drawn to the teacher's box. Though she found it hard to see, spotting Quirrel's turban was easy enough. Staring at him as he watched Potter on his broom, his eyes never leaving him, Tracey felt the blood in her veins turn to ice.

Since Halloween, she was extremely wary of Professor Quirrell and stayed as far from him as she could manage. Even when she was in his Defense class, she did everything she could not to draw his attention to her; which considering her reaction to him, was somewhat difficult to do. Now she found where before he had ignored her, he now actively sought her out in class with his eyes, often watching her when no one else was looking; it made her extremely uncomfortable and Tracey could never meet his eyes, often preferring to pretend she was concentrating on her work.

_What is wrong with him? Why as he trying to hurt... or possibly kill Potter? _Tracey wondered in confusion as she felt her stomach twisting itself into knots.

**XxX**

After much debate, Tracey found herself pacing in front of Professor Snape's office door. Though she did not trust the man, and actually rather had come to dislike him for his complete betrayal of her trust... she felt that this was not the kind of thing she should keep to herself. So rallying whatever... moral code she was supposed to live by, she brought her fist up and knocked.

Tracey was a bit startled when the door was wrenched open and she found herself staring up into the dark eyes of her Head of House. "Miss Davis," he asked, moving out of the way and motioning for her to step in. Tracey bowed her head and did so, sidestepping the man and waiting for him to close the door. "What can I do for you?"

"Professor Quirrel... I saw him at the Quidditch match, he was tampering with Potter's broom," Tracey commented as Professor Snape made to move to sit behind his desk. At her words, he stiffened and turned to look at her with a frown.

"Miss Davis... your accusation is very serious. Do you have any proof?"

Tracey felt herself flushing as she just realized that he was right. She was accusing a Professor of endangering the life of one of his students. Tracey shook her head in response, ducking her head as her face became increasingly hot.

"Then I suggest you keep this information to yourself."

"Yes sir," Tracey responded through gritted teeth, angry at herself for not thinking this whole thing through and angry at her Head of House for not believing her. Turning around, she made to exit the room. However, was stopped when he called her name

"As it is, I'm glad you've come, Miss Davis. Miss Farley has informed that the night of the Halloween feast you appeared very... ill and weak," he let his statement hang, as he slowly took a seat behind his desk.

"It was nothing," Tracey said with a shrug, somewhat annoyed with Gemma for telling Snape. However, she couldn't bring herself to hate the girl for it, not after how supportive she had been of her over the last couple weeks. "It was just the panic... do you know what it's like to feel panic, as though it were hundredfold? It's not pleasant," Tracey went on, tartly, turning to look at Professor Snape once more.

"Miss Davis, I am aware you do not trust me... but I suggest you set your foolish stubbornness aside and allow me to train you in Occlumency. You are surrounded by your emotional peers, and you need to learn to control your powers before they cause you harm," Tracey rolled her eyes at her Professor's cold statement, earning herself a glare.

"I'm not weak, I can deal with it on my own. I don't need your help, Professor. Good day," Tracey hissed, before turning and marching out of the room. Belatedly, she knew she was acting like a petulant child, but she couldn't help it. She had trusted him not to tell anyone what she told him, and he ran to the Headmaster. Was she really supposed to trust him after that?

**TBC...**

**A/n: Review!**


	8. Book 1, Chapter 8: Your Leaving

**A/n: **Special thanks to Magicheart5355 for reviewing.

**~X~x~X~**

**The Wallflowers**

**~X~x~X~**

**Book 1: Sorcerer's Stone**

**Chapter 8:**

**Your Leaving Had No Goodbye.**

_(Infinity- The xx)_

Tracey stood in the Slytherin Common Room, her bag slung over her shoulder as she stared at the noticeboard. There was a sign-up sheet pinned up for people intending to stay in the castle during the holidays.

Since the start of school, Tracey had only written once or twice to her mother, both times spaced rather far apart. She'd never received a response in turn, something that did not go by unnoticed by Malfoy, Pansy, Daphne, Blaise and Theo. While Draco and Pansy had both been cruel and made comments about how she was unloved, Daphne merely gave Tracey pitying looks while Blaise and Theo both pretended not to notice.

Tracey found herself actually relieved by this. She couldn't stand the pity, nor did she want to be questioned about her home-life.

"Are you going home for the holidays?" Theo asked as he appeared next to her. Being as they were standing almost shoulder-to-shoulder, Tracey could feel Theo's longing to grab a quill and sign-up. However, as much as he'd prefer to stay at the castle, it wasn't an option for him; making him feel apprehensive and uncomfortable.

"I don't know. I don't really want to, I'd probably be better off at the castle, but I'm a bit worried about my mother," Tracey responded quietly, so that only Theo heard her. It was the most she had spoken of her home-life in her three months at school. Her heart clenched at the thought of sharing, but she expected that if she and Theo were friends, that she should trust him a little more.

Besides, she could understand Theodore's longing, no one really wanted to return to a broken home where you felt worse than lonely and completely insignificant. She expected that on some level, he must feel she understood him as well.

However, Tracey was worried about her mother. She hadn't heard from her at all, and she wasn't sure if her mother would remember to eat and shower without Tracey there to pry her away from her work. Sometimes, it was so exhausting and often left her feeling like she was the adult and her mother the child... often making her feel a bit resentful that she wasn't allowed a childhood. However, she was her mother... and Tracey didn't have a choice but to look after her because without her, she'd have nobody.

"Are you going home?" Tracey asked, trying to shake off her thoughts and all the mixed up feelings.

Theodore shook his head. "I'm going to spend them with Blaise and his family... my father's already agreed," Theodore replied with a sigh.

"Lucky you," Tracey deadpanned, knowing that Theo had at least escaped his father's clutches a little longer.

Theodore looked at his slightly shorter friend thoughtfully, before turning back to the noticeboard, which Tracey was still staring at sadly. "Not entirely, it can be a bit uncomfortable. Blaise has a complex relationship with his mother... and as I understand it, he hates his step-father. There's a lot of tension there."

"How many times has his mother married?" Tracey asked, brow furrowed as she looked at Theodore curiously. She'd of course heard the rumors, but she was sure some were greatly exaggerated.

"I think this one is husband number four," Theo replied. Tracey felt both her eyebrows raised at this as she turned away from the noticeboard, thinking it was about time they started heading towards their next class. She'd only come to Slytherin to get her cloak, scarf and gloves as they would be heading to the Greenhouses for Herbology next. She'd gotten distracted by the noticeboard.

"Have you met all her husbands?" Tracey asked curiously as they both started walking out of Slytherin together.

Theodore shook his head. "I never met Blaise's father. He died when Blaise was three. I met Blaise when we were five. She was already married to her second husband by then. He didn't last long."

"How did Blaise's father die?" Tracey asked.

"I don't know, Blaise never wants to talk about his father," Theo responded with a shrug of his angular shoulders. Tracey nodded her head as she bowed it as they made their way through the maze of corridors in the dungeons until they arrived at the staircase which took them up to the Entrance Hall.

Over the last couple months, she hardly spoke to Blaise and usually when they did speak to one another, it was mostly only in passing. They hadn't really bothered to get to know each other very much, as the only thing they really seemed to have in common was their friendship with Theodore.

Despite the fact that Blaise was arrogant, distant, and cold, Tracey felt sorry for him. She couldn't imagine what it was like not to know your father, for him to be snatched when you were so young and be stuck with a mother who remarried every couple years. Briefly, Tracey wondered if the rumors that Mrs. Zabini's husbands all died under mysterious circumstances, leaving her all their money and properties were true. If they were, she imagined it must be rather horrible for Blaise and almost felt pity for him. _Almost_.

**XxX**

The Holidays were quickly upon them, with Tracey having written to her mother on a nearly daily basis to tell her that she was coming home. Even after her mother had finally written back, telling her that it was all right and that she'd be at King's Cross to pick her up, Tracey wrote to her daily to remind her the date and time, knowing her mother would probably forget otherwise.

As Tracey got off the train, chewing nervously on her bottom lip, she craned her neck to look as much of the platform as she could. "Don't look so hard, someone just might think that you have no one coming for you," Blaise noted sarcastically from beside her, crossing his arms over his chest.

Tracey looked at Blaise and wanted to shove him to shut his mouth. However, she merely glared at him as she pulled her trunk along with her and started making her way along the platform. As she walked, she could feel her stomach twisting itself into a tighter ball with every step. She'd walked halfway down the platform, when she started feeling sick as she anxiously looked past students being engulfed in hugs.

However, finally she spotted the long brown hair she knew well and stopped, frozen. The slender, tall woman's back was to her so Tracey couldn't be sure. The woman, after all, looked too thin to be her mother.

Tracey almost held her breath as the woman slowly turned and her heart seemed to stop as she got caught in a pair of yellow eyes. Tracey couldn't help the smile that spread across her usually serious countenance. Tugging her trunk behind her, she all but hurtled herself at her mother, wrapping her arms around her mother's waist. She was so glad her mother had actually remembered to pick her up, that she forgot to care about the fact that her mother stiffened in her grasp and only patted her shoulders awkwardly, not really returning the embrace.

"Really, darling, someone would think you'd really believe that I wouldn't be here for you," her mother commented. When Tracey merely continued to hold her, Regina Davis seemed to have enough and physically pried her daughter away from her. "Have you gotten taller, my dear?" she asked, eyeing her daughter carefully. Tracey merely shrugged her shoulders. "Well come along, let's get you home. And you can tell me all about school thus far."

Though Tracey was sure her mother didn't really care, Tracey couldn't help begin to babble at her as they left the station.

**XxX**

Christmas morning, Tracey found herself in bed, laying awake. She had been unable to go to sleep the previous night. She'd simply been unable to shut her mind off.

Tracey hated Christmas. It only reminded her of what she didn't have. It was a time of year, meant for people with happy families to celebrate together. However, since her father left, she didn't feel like she had a family and her mother didn't put any store into the Holiday so Tracey knew better than to expect any gifts.

Tracey bitterly lay awake in bed, curled on her side with all the covers tightly wrapped around her as she continued to think of the man who had left her, without even saying any kind of farewell to her. _Coward, _Tracey seethed as she burrowed deeper into her covers.

Their house was particularly cold in winter. The house was old and unforgivably drafty. Tracey hated it. However, she supposed that it really wasn't any worse than being at school.

However, when Tracey finally dragged herself out of bed and down the stairs, she was surprised to find a set of presents on the kitchen island. "Those arrived for you, not ten minutes ago," her mother informed her as she gathered her work. "I'll be back form work around one, so find yourself something to eat pet," her mother stated, patting Tracey on the head before making her way to the fireplace in the living room.

Hardly taking notice of her mother, Tracey moved to the presents that had arrived with a furrowed brow. Picking the larger of the two, she looked down on it and noticed the note attached informed her who it was from, although she could recognize the fancy calligraphy anywhere.

_Dear Trace,_

_Hope this finds you well. _

_Happy Christmas,  
Theodore Nott_

Tracey smiled to herself as she shook her head. _How very concise of Theo, _she thought to herself as she opened the present. She wasn't particularly surprised when she saw that he had given her a book, considering that the package was shaped like one. However, she was surprised to find that it had been the same book that Professor Snape had snatched away from her.

With wide eyes, she picked up the Guide to Legilimency and flipped through it, wondering at the fact that Theodore had noticed what book she'd been reading. Setting it aside, Tracey picked up her other present with her eyes getting even wider at the shock at who sent this gift.

_Tracey,_

_Theodore insisted I send you a gift. I really couldn't think of anything else to get you. _

_Happy Christmas,  
Blaise Zabini_

Opening the smaller, but long present, Tracey almost smiled. Blaise had sent her a set of sugar quills in every color of the rainbow. For a moment, she wondered at the fact that Blaise had realized that she was fond of them. She tried not to think much of the fact that she and Blaise weren't really friends and that it was odd that he was sending her a present, as she guessed that it was all Theodore's doing. However, she did feel kind of bad that she didn't think to send anything to them.

Tracey shrugged to herself as she picked up her gifts and cleaned up the mess, before heading back to her room. She'd been going to the kitchen to get breakfast, but now with the prospect of a new book, she felt too eager to read. Not to mention, she now needed to think of something to give to both Theo and Blaise.

**TBC...**


	9. Book 1, Chapter 9: I Feel Stupid

**A/n: **Thank you to **_pkp033_** for your review. I was afraid that Tracey and Theodore might come off as a bit too mature, it's a bit difficult to write in the mindset as an eleven year when your an adult, I think. But I also figured that Tracey might be a bit more mature than other kids her age because of her gift and because of her mother's treatment of her. Theodore on the other hand is a different matter, simply I think because he's a genius and his father is abusive. However, Tracey will have instances when she acts her age and I hope that shows through. Thank you so much for reviewing. I appreciate the feedback more than I can express. :)

**~X~x~X~**

**The Wallflowers**

**~X~x~X~**

**Book 1: Sorcerer's Stone**

**Chapter 9:**

**I Feel Stupid And Contagious.  
**_(Smells Like Teen Spirit- Nirvana)_

"How were your holidays?" Theodore asked, as Tracey came into their compartment on the train-ride back to school.

Tracey shrugged her shoulder's noncommittally as she handed a package to Theodore. "I spent most of them reading the book you sent, but I left it at home. Professor Snape might confiscate it if he saw me with it, even if it's mine," Tracey replied, glad to be back at school and the Holidays over as she approached Blaise and dropped a package in his lap before sitting opposite the two boys. She'd gotten Theodore a book and Blaise... well she hadn't really been sure what to get him so she just settled for an expensive peacock Quill. Somehow she felt it rather suited him. "How were yours?" she asked as both boys opened their late presents.

"Great," Blaise replied tersely.

Theodore cast a look at Blaise and shrugged his shoulder's at Tracey. "We're going back to school, suppose that's all that matters," Theodore replied.

"Yes, joy," Blaise said sarcastically with a sigh as he looked at the quill before raising his eyes to look at the girl opposite him. "Thank you, Tracey. It's very nice."

Tracey shrugged her shoulders and pulled a small book from the inside of her robes and curled into herself to read for the rest of the trip.

**XxX**

Tracey's birthday, January 15th, came and went without any note. Tracey wasn't very surprised, as she hadn't told anyone when her birthday was and as her mother had more or less forgotten her last several birthdays, she wasn't surprised when her mother had forgotten this one as well.

Tracey really didn't see how it mattered that she was twelve now. She supposed that it didn't. Least she didn't feel anything.

School proceeded as normal, without much to really take note of. Except February's Quidditch game between Gryffindors and Hufflepuff. It was all over the school long before the game that Professor Snape would be refereeing the match. A point that Tracey found of interest and passing strange, even though she had no intention of attending the game... it was so wet and cold out after all and she didn't see the point as it wasn't her House playing.

However, the beginning of March brought an unwelcome change to Tracey, which initially freaked her out. The fact that she was bleeding from her private bits had her running from the loo and to the Hospital Wing as quickly as she could in which she embarrassedly tried to explain to Madam Pomfrey where she was bleeding and asking what was wrong with her. She was only further embarrassed when Madam Pomfrey started explaining to her the fact that her body was starting to become that of a woman and asking her how it was that her mother hadn't told her of this.

Sufficed to say for the following week, Tracey was not in the best of moods and kept snapping at everyone left and right. Luckily, no one else knew about her embarrassing yet educational visit to Madam Pomfrey. Tracey had a feeling that if Pansy had gotten wind of it that Tracey would never live it down.

For the following months, it was certainly an adjustment. Tracey didn't much care for the changes. The hair in unexpected and unwanted places. Her chest which was slowly growing, making her more self-conscious about it, though luckily the robes seemed to hide them. Remembering all the spells and potions to deal with cramps and the blood, not to mention having to keep note on the calendar so her menses wouldn't catch her unawares... it was very trying and put Tracey in a severely bad mood. The fact that she spent most of her time with two very observant boys made her wish she had female friends for once. At least they'd understand what she was going through.

However, from chat in her dorm, it seemed to her that she was the only one to have started menstruating. It made Tracey almost want to reach out to Gemma, however, she didn't want to bother her. Especially as Gemma was now preparing for her OWLs.

On May 10th, Tracey felt as though she were at her rope's end as Pansy just would not shut up about the fact that she was now twelve, or about all the presents she had received. By the end of the day, Tracey had been unable to keep herself from jinxing Pansy with a Bat-bogey hex in the common room, for which Jugson had given her a detention.

"What is your problem, Tracey?" Theodore couldn't help himself asking as he watched with wide-eyes as Pansy got slowly back to her feet while Blaise tried to keep himself from laughing.

"She would just not shut up! Who cares you're twelve already! It's not like you're the bloody first person that's ever turned twelve!" Tracey snapped, gathering her things and rushing out of the common room and towards the girls' dorms, she was joined several minutes later by Daphne.

"Are you okay?" the blonde asked tentatively. Tracey didn't say anything as she dropped her bag very heavily on her bed with a little shriek.

"Clearly, I'm not!" Tracey snapped in turn, glaring at the blonde.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Daphne asked quietly and patiently, sitting on her own bed, which was next to Tracey's.

"How can you stand to be around her? Isn't it maddening? I mean the way she's been going on, she's acting like twelve is a one of the big birthdays, like turning eleven or seventeen," Tracey responded exasperated.

"Well... twelve for girls _is_ a big... year. Typically, it's the age most girls... _flower_ at, if you know what I mean. In pureblood families, turning twelve for a girl used to be a big deal because it would mean a girl was old enough to be married off," Daphne explained slowly and patiently, her cheeks turning a charming pink, as though the subject was a bit embarrassing even to her.

Tracey furrowed her brow and pursed her lips. "Sometimes our world is absolutely medieval. It's like we're stuck in the dark ages."

Daphne smiled slightly at this, however after a moment of thought she turned her head to the side. "When's your birthday? Mine isn't until August, the twenty-first."

Tracey bit her lip. She didn't really want to volunteer this particular information. However, as she watched Daphne and the fact that the pretty blonde was sitting there, waiting so patiently and talking to her... something Daphne often attempted, Tracey found herself becoming more willing to answer. Didn't she want a girl as a friend? Weren't there things she felt it would be easier to talk to with a girl than a boy? Was Daphne really a bad option for a friend?

Tracey didn't think so. Even though Daphne was so pretty she made Tracey feel like the ugly duckling, and even though Daphne came from a pureblood family, Daphne had always tried to be polite and friendly. She wasn't obnoxious or snotty the way Pansy was. And Daphne was actually rather smart, and practical. Perhaps she wasn't quite as academically inclined as Theo, but was that really a bad thing? Sometimes Theo could be downright boring.

"January 15," Tracey responded.

"Oh! I didn't know. Happy belated birthday," Daphne smiled, causing Tracey to shrug. "Have you... you know, started?"

Tracey felt herself flushing in embarrassment as she nodded her head. "In March."

"You know Tracey, it's not anything to be ashamed of. And don't worry, I won't tell anyone."

Tracey smiled in thanks as she nodded her head and sat down on her bed, facing Daphne. "So where is Pansy?"

"Millie took her up to the Hospital Wing. You got her quite good," Daphne responded, trying to keep from smiling. "And I know Pansy can be a bit much, most of the time. Deep down though, she'd not so bad. You just have to learn to ignore most of the stupid things that come out of her mouth. She's just been spoiled terribly, what with being an only child and being born a girl. Her father treats her like a little princess."

"Must be nice," Tracey deadpanned as she wondered if she'd ever been treated that way. It was with a start that she realized that she could hardly remember. She'd tried so hard the last two years to forget her father, that her mind had actually blocked her memories of him and she could hardly recall memories of him at all and only had a vague idea of what he looked like. A part of her felt distinct pride at this, a bitter and sick kind, but at the same time, she felt her heart breaking all over again as though she had once more lost him.

**TBC...**

**A/n: Review!**


	10. Book 1, Chapter 10: No Choice

**~X~x~X~**

**The Wallflowers**

**~X~x~X~**

**Book 1: Sorcerer's Stone**

**Chapter 10:**

**Well We Got No Choice, All The Girls and Boys, Making All That Noise.  
**_(School's Out- Alice Cooper)_

May quickly bled into June, with which came exams. Most days leading up to them found Tracey in the library studying with Theo and even Blaise. There were even days with their little study-group where Daphne showed up, often in much need with help in Transfiguration and Potions.

Exams to Tracey were like a breeze.

June fifth came with two events. The first and least important of which was Draco Malfoy's birthday. However, even in Slytherin this was overshadowed with the news that Harry Potter was in the hospital wing.

"You know, that means that Gryffindor has to forfeit to Ravenclaw tomorrow, if he isn't up for the match," Gemma piped up as she sat next to Tracey at lunch. The hall was buzzing with the news.

Tracey shook her head, _How can she think about Quidditch at a time like this?_ "So what happened to Professor Quirrell?" she asked anxiously, having noticed his absence at the High Table.

From what she had understood of the gossip thus far, it appeared Potter and his friends had gone on some sort of adventure. Quirrell somehow factored into the scenario, but Tracey didn't know what was true. One version stated that he was trying to steal something and attempted to kill Potter and friends in the process as they tried to stand in his way. Another staid that Quirrell had melted, but Tracey thought this was absurd. _We aren't in the damn Wizard of Oz where witches melt when water is thrown on them. _

However, it was clear that Quirrell _was_ involved.

"Oh... well he's dead," Gemma replied dispassionately with a shrug. "I overhead Professor Snape speaking with Professor McGonagall this morning. Apparently Quirrell was sharing his body with You-Know-Who. Can you imagine? And he was teaching us all year!" Gemma said with a shiver of revulsion.

Tracey stared with wide eyes as she looked at Gemma, her face paling at this bit of information. Gemma having noted how pale the younger girl got, put a comforting arm around Tracey. "Guess you were right all along to be scared of him, huh? But don't worry Trace, he's gone. Although, I thought You-Know-Who was supposed to be dead... doesn't really make sense to me."

"Can evil be killed?" Theo asked rhetorically from across the table. Tracey looked at the mousy-haired boy, noticing that however cool his voice sounded, he too seemed afraid.

**XxX**

"I really don't like Dumbledore," Tracey stated as she felt the collective crushing disappointment from her House that tears sprung in her eyes and her throat felt tight. However, she felt it too and it left a horrible taste in her mouth as she glared at the now Gryffindor banners which floated overhead. "Like he couldn't add the points before the feast. No, he had to do it at the end of term Feast. At least if he would've done it earlier, we would've been prepared to the fact we didn't win the House cup."

"It's because the old bat is a Gryffindor. He just wanted to shove it in all our faces," Draco stated, slamming his goblet down in anger and for once, Tracey actually agreed with Draco and even commiserated with him. It made her hate Dumbledore more. She _never_ wanted to be on the same side as Draco Malfoy.

"Well I suppose we'll simply have to do better next year. Widen the gap. It's pretty pathetic we only got over 400 points in the first place," Daphne commented, trying to be optimistic.

Tracey sighed and pushed her plate away. She wasn't hungry anymore.

**XxX**

"We're almost at the station," Tracey commented with a sigh.

"Guess it's farewell for now, until next year," Theo commented from where he sat across form her. The Compartment was oddly full for once. Not only was Blaise accompanying them, but unexpectedly Daphne as well.

Daphne engulfed Tracey in her arms. "You must come spend a couple weeks at my home! Please Tracey?"

Tracey shrugged. "I'm sure my mother would be fine with that. _And_ so long as Pansy isn't visiting at the same time." Though, what she really meant that it wouldn't make a difference to her mother.

"Oh no, Pansy's parents never let her stay over; they're a bit overprotective of her. I'll probably have to go over and spend a few days with her, but probably at the beginning. I'll write you, we'll make arrangements, okay?" Daphne smiled, before getting up to leave, to find Pansy and give her her farewells.

"What are you two doing this summer?" Tracey asked as the train started to slow and she got up to reach for her trunk.

"I'll have to spend a week at some point with the Malfoy's. And I expect Blaise will come at some point," Theodore responded darkly, not really open to talking about his home life yet, even if they spent most of their free time together this past year.

Tracey nodded as the train finally came to a stop. "Well... I suppose I'll see you around," Tracey said with a shrug. Both boys merely nodded silently. However, before Tracey could stop herself, she caught both of them in a hug surprising both of them, and even herself.

"Women," Blaise said with a shake of his head as he exited the compartment, hauling his trunk behind himself. However, Tracey could hear the smirk in his voice and knew that he didn't really mind the hug.

Theo on the other hand was blushing scarlet. "See you Trace, I'll write," he said, motioning for her to go first. Tracey smiled... wishing already that summer was over and she could be back at Hogwarts. It would be dreadfully boring she knew and lonely.

_~This Concludes Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone~_

**TBC...**


	11. Book 2, Chapter 1: Make It Better

**A/n: **Thank you to everyone who reviewed in the last chapter! I'm sorry if the ending of the first book seemed a bit rushed. What happens I think that I get so anxious to start the next book, that by the time I get to the end of the book I'm working on, I just want to get it over with. I will endeavor to keep an eye on that in the future. Well now on to the story!

**~X~x~X~**

**The Wallflowers**

**~X~x~X~**

**Book 2: Chamber of Secrets**

_**Chapter 1:**_

**Maybe I Had Said Something That Was Wrong. Can I Make It Better With The Lights Turned On?**  
_(Shelter- The xx)_

SECOND-YEAR STUDENDS WILL REQUIRE:

_The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 2 _by Miranda Goshawk  
_Break with a Banshee _by Gilderoy Lockhart_  
Gadding with Ghouls _by Gilderoy Lockhart_  
Holidays with Hags_ by Gilderoy Lockhart_  
Travels with Trolls _by Gilderoy Lockhart_  
Voyages with Vampires _by Gilderoy Lockhart_  
Wanderings with Werewolves _by Gilderoy Lockhart_  
Year with the Yeti _by Gilderoy Lockhart

Tracey stared nonplussed at her school booklist, her joy at receiving a letter from Hogwarts quickly dissipating before setting it in front of her mother's face. "I guess my Defense teacher this year is a fan," Tracey said with disgust as her mother's eyes adjusted to what her daughter had set before her, causing her to frown.

"This year is going to be expensive. Doesn't help that you've grown and we have to get you new uniforms, _again. _I'd hoped your robes from your first year would at least last you both your first and second year," her mother said with a heavy sigh as she looked over at her daughter. Tracey shrugged her shoulders.

"I haven't grown _that_ much, I'm only about an inch and a half taller than I was last year," she stated as she was almost five feet tall now.

"I wasn't talking about your height," her mother stated causing Tracey to cross her arms over her chest self-consciously as she glared at her mother for drawing attention to her chest. Since they'd started growing in, they made her uncomfortable.

"They haven't grown that much," she said indignantly under the yellow-eyed scrutiny of her mother.

"They're almost a size B. And you're twelve and still growing," her mother pointed out, causing Tracey to become scarlet. She merely turned on her heel and left the kitchen area, heading back to her room.

It was almost mid-august. The first part of her summer was dreadfully boring as Tracey had predicted, despite the frequent owls she got from Daphne and Theodore. And try as she might not to think of the events of the end of last term, she was having nightmares about Professor Quirrel, whom she was trying especially hard not to think of.

She was just glad that summer was almost winding down. However, before the summer was up, Tracey would be staying with the Greengrass family. It was all set. She was to spend the week of Daphne's birthday with them, and they'd taken it upon themselves to take Tracey to King's Cross.

In all honestly, Tracey was nervous about the whole prospect of staying with strangers. Sure she knew Daphne, and had gotten to know her better over the summer through their letters. However, she was nervous about meeting her parents and her younger sister. Despite how cordial Daphne's parents seemed through their letters to her mother, Tracey was still apprehensive about meeting them.

"Tracey, come down here. We might as well go to Diagon Alley today. It'll be less crowded!" Her mother called causing Tracey to sigh and head back down the stairs. A prospect of a shopping trip now, did not appeal to her.

**XxX**

Tracey was tired and annoyed. She and her mother had already visited Madam Malkins... soon all her new uniforms would be delivered home by owl. They'd also stopped by to get her some much needed supplies such as parchment, quills, and ink. Now all that was left was to visit Flourish and Blotts for her school books.

"There is to be no perusing, Tracey. Do you hear me? I do not have the time for you to-" her mother stopped speaking as they set foot in the book store. Tracey looked up and wondered what had caused her mother to stop dead in her lecture. Looking up, she found herself starting at what was possibly the most handsome man she had ever seen. However, something about his regal features, cold grey eyes, and platinum blonde hair that fell past his shoulders was painfully familiar.

"Regina," he said in a silky, delighted tone as a sneer came over his smooth features.

"Lucius," her mother acknowledged. Tracey looked back at her mother and noticed that her body had gone rigid and the expression she bore was tight and strived to remain polite. However, the ice cold tone she spoke in betrayed her. Not that Tracey much needed to hear her speak to know that this man set her mother on edge. She could feel the slight fear, and apprehension her mother felt rolling off her in waves that made her take some steps away form her mother to get away form the discomfort.

"It has been far too long. The last I heard of you was that you and your _husband_ were having a child," Lucius said in a tone that implied his distaste before turning to look at Tracey. "Ah, but this must be her. And what a lovely little thing she is."

Tracey's eyes narrowed at the man who spoke in a mocking tone, hating him already. The fact that he called her a 'little thing' only further cemented this in her mind. Looking up into his eyes, she met them fiercely with her own olive-green one's. Everything about this man, from his lavish and expensive robes, to his walking stick with the snake-head for a handle, and the noble bearing he carried seemed to scream at her for her to hate him.

"Yes, this is my daughter, Tracey," her mother said coolly, choosing to ignore the way the man looked down at Tracey like she was scum on his shoes despite the fact that he was intrigued by the way she looked at him defiantly.

"Tracey," he said in his smooth voice. However, the curl of his mouth and slightly wrinkle in his nose told her that her name for some reason left a bitter taste in his mouth. "What year are you in? Surely you must be in Hogwarts already. Third year?"

"Second," Tracey replied tersely wondering what business it was of his and how her mother knew this pompous man.

"Second? Well then you must know my son, Draco. He is also a second year," Tracey's eyes momentarily widened at this. _Of course_, she thought, _that's why he looks so familiar_. "Ah, so you do know him?" Lucius Malfoy went on to ask as he noticed the widening of recognition in her eyes.

"He's in my house," Tracey conceded with a shrug of her shoulders, ignoring the sudden approval in Malfoy senior's eyes as the mention of the fact that she was a Slytherin. "But he's too stupid for me to consider him a friend."

"Tracey!" her mother cried sharply in mortification at her manner's as she turned to look at her. Mr. Malfoy's eyes merely gleamed down at Tracey. For a moment, she could feel the man's anger at her, but also his disappointment at his son. As she continued to stare into his eyes, she felt herself slipping beyond what felt like a waterfall of cool water... which she now knew from reading was her personal way of feeling other people's minds.

Once inside his head, she could see flashes of memories, those forefront in his mind at the moment. She saw in one flash Lucius Malfoy sitting, staring at a test score list, ranking the students of her year from best scored to worst. At the top of the list was Theodore Nott, followed in very close second by Hermione Granger. In third place were tied a pair of Ravenclaws who'd gotten the same score, Tracey's name was in fourth, followed extremely closely by Draco.

Another flash showed Mr. Malfoy questioning his son about his test scores and of the students who managed to score higher than him. Another flash showed the man verbally cutting Draco down to size with a tongue lashing that even made Tracey cringe. Tracey never thought that she'd feel sympathy for Draco, though she was more annoyed that her final scores were only slightly higher than Draco's. She could also feel Lucius Malfoy's outrage at the fact that a mudblood and three half-bloods managed to score better than his pureblood son.

Feeling even more disgusted with the man before her, Tracey was very quick to pull out of the man's mind as soon a she was able to. Something that for some reason she found she had a harder time controlling than slipping into certain people's minds. Especially as she wasn't particularly able to practice these skills at home, being as the only person she'd seen thus far this summer was her mother, and she simply did not want to invade her mother's privacy. It was hard enough to have to feel her emotions, something Tracey could not for the life of her figure out how to shut off.

"That's quite all right, Regina. Perhaps Tracey has a point, or perhaps like you, she simply overestimates her own intelligence," Mr. Malfoy said condescendingly, turning his attention only momentarily to her mother before flitting back to Tracey. "Did you know, your mother and I were in the same year, when we were in school?" he asked Tracey with a sneer she did not like.

Tracey furrowed her brow and looked up at her mother questioningly. Without meaning to, she used Legilimency on her mother, just as she just had with Mr. Malfoy and was flooded with images that shocked her. Apparently her mother and Mr. Malfoy dated in what appeared to be their fourth and fifth year.

Tracey scrambled as fast as she could out form her mother's minded with a feeling of disgust and confusion which was visible to both adults as Tracey physically reeled away from her mother. How had her mother gone from dating a narcissistic, pureblood, cold, cruel, prejudiced jerk to marrying a muggle? Even if said jerk was handsome and rich.

However, she tried to keep it from showing on her face, practicing the mind clearing exercises from the Occlumency chapter in her book. She had been practicing over the summer in hopes to learn how to block out other people's emotions, but while she was able to clear her mind, she had yet to succeed in blocking out others' emotions.

"I don't see how that matters and I don't care what you think of my intelligence," Tracey huffed with a shrug of her shoulders, before crossing her arms over her chest. However, a frown still marred her small features. Mr. Malfoy's grey eyes sparkled with amusement at the fiery little thing before him. "I'm going to find my books," Tracey stated suddenly having had enough of this and merely walking away from the adults without so much as another glance at Mr. Malfoy.

**XxX**

Her mother was intensely angry. She knew that even before she entered the house. She hadn't spoken two words to her, nor so much as looked at her for the rest of their trip to Diagon Alley. However, she hadn't expected for the second that they were home that her mother would slap her across the face so hard that she was left reeling.

For a moment, all she was aware was the sting in her cheek and the tell-tale burning behind her eyelids. Her neck ached from how violently it was turned to one side. She was too stunned to do more than blink away the tears before turning back. A hand unconsciously reached up to touch her still burning cheek and touched it gingerly. She was sure that there would be a bruise there later.

Slowly, she raised her eyes to her mother, whose yellow eyes were large and staring at her angrily. Tracey didn't know if her mother's anger, or her own, but she felt it suddenly swelling inside her like a tidal wave. Beneath it, she felt a familiar sense of betrayal as she scowled up at her mother. "What the hell was that for?" she yelled, earning herself yet another slap. However, this was not as hard as the first, as her mother struck her with her left hand this time, her weaker hand.

"That one was for disrespecting me, I'm your mother! You don't speak to me like that," her mother stated coldly, making Tracey realize that the overwhelming anger she felt was all her own. Removing her hand from her cheek, she stared up defiantly at her mother with her lips sealed. "The first for that little stunt you pulled with Lucius Malfoy! Do you have any idea how dangerous that man is, you stupid girl? If he so wanted, he could crush us both under his expensive dagonhide boots! He's every bit as dangerous as Augustus and you insulted his son!"

"That doesn't give you the right to lay a hand on me," Tracey stated angrily under her breath as she glared up at her mother from underneath her moist eyelashes.

"You're lucky that a slap is all I've ever given you. If I so wanted, I could strip your back bare! It's what you grandparents would do to Augustus and I when we stepped out of line!" her mother railed.

"Maybe that's why you turned out like you did," Tracey bit out, causing her mother's eyes to obtain a wild look. She raised her hand once more, but this time Tracey wasn't going to be taken unawares. She moved out of her mother's reach, before moving swiftly around her and making her way for the door. Before her mother could reach out to her, Tracey had wrenched the front door open and took off running.

She didn't know where she was going as her mother yelled her name after her, but that really didn't matter to her. All she knew was that she needed to get away from her mother. As she ran, she seemed only aware of the wild beating of her heart, which seemed to almost resonate with the beats of her feet against the pavement.

When her lungs started to burn and her breath came in pants, Tracey slowed to a stop, tossing a quick look behind her to ensure that she hadn't been followed. Seeing that the coast was clear, she doubled over to try to regain her normal breathing pattern and regulate her heartbeat. After a few minutes, she straightened and looked around herself, wondering how long she had run and just where the hell she was.

Spotting a deserted park across the street, Tracey sighed and walked over to it, wondering what the hell she was supposed to do now. How was she supposed to go back home and face her mother? Would her mother be terribly angry at her? Would she go on punishing her for the things that she had said?

Sitting on a swing, Tracey pushed herself back and forth lost in her thoughts. She didn't know how long she sat there, just thinking. She was unaware of the hot tears that started blazing tracks down her cheeks as she stared at the ground beneath her feet and slowly pushed herself back and forth with one of her feet.

She felt betrayed and left alone in the world, where no one seemed to really care about her and she seemed unable to do anything right. She felt angry, that her mother had hit her _again_ and hated her for making her feel afraid of going back to a mostly empty home with only her mother for company. A cold and harsh woman who rarely if ever showed affection for Tracey.

Once more, Tracey found herself wondering why she had to be stuck with her mother. Why couldn't her father have taken her with him when he left?

Clenching her hands around the chains, she felt the metal digging into the skin of her palm, but she didn't care. All she felt was anger, boiling underneath her skin, swirling underneath. She wanted to scream. She wanted to hit something. More than anything she wanted to dispel the fluttering inside her, like something was itching and clawing, crawling under her skin to get out.

After a while of merely sitting there, trembling, imbedding the chains into her skin, she couldn't take it anymore and let out a blood curdling scream of frustration. She shut her eyes and screamed until all the air was dispelled from her lungs and had to take a deep breath, which she screamed out again. When she was done, she slipped out of the swing and onto her knees, her hands loosening from the chains which held up the swing.

She knelt there for a while in a crumpled heap, her shoulders slouched as tears continue to sting her eyes. However, at least now she didn't feel the anger swirling around her anymore. It had abated and she was too tired to feel much more. Laying down as the twilight descended on this side of the world, she curled up into a ball, holding her hands together and cradling them to her chest.

It was a while later when the tears finally subsided and the numbness took over. Tracey felt like nothing more than a shell... but in a way it was peaceful. Closing her eyes, she wished she could lay there forever and never have to move. But a rumbling in her stomach made that impossible. Belatedly, she realized since breakfast and a quick and hasty lunch in Diagon Alley, she hadn't eaten.

She closed her eyes tight, wanting to ignore the hunger pangs. She didn't want to go home. She never wanted to go home. She much less wanted to face her mother. However, what else was she going to do?

Slowly, she got up and dragged her feet home. With her slow pace, and considering she'd run nearly a mile, it took her almost half an hour to get home. She could feel her stomach rumbling, probably eating itself from lack of sustenance. Tracey ignored this as she came across her gloomy block. She grimaced as she passed each dilapidated and dark house until finally she came to her own.

Once there, she found the door locked. Sighing, she reached for her wand inside her short's pockets and cast a few spells to pass the wards before casting _Alohomora_ on the door. Once inside, she stood in the threshold with her hand on the doorknob and listened to the silent house. Figuring that her mother might have gone to the Ministry, she stepped inside and closed the door behind herself.

Stepping into the kitchen, her theory was proved correct when she found a hasty note from her mother telling her she'd gone into work and wouldn't be home until late. Tracey sighed in relief and went about making herself a quick meal before heading up to her room. The silent, creaky old house didn't disturb her... as she grew older, she started to think that she actually preferred it that way.

**TBC...**

**A/n: Remember to review!**


	12. Book 2, Chapter 2: On The Outside

**~X~x~X~**

**The Wallflowers**

**~X~x~X~**

**Book 2: Chamber of Secrets**

_**Chapter 2:**_

**I'm On The Outside, I'm Looking In. I Can See Through You, See Your True Colors. **

_(Outside- Staind)_

Things were tense for the following several days around home, Tracey hardly saw her mother and when she did neither one could bring themselves to be particularly civil to the other. There were nothing but glares and scathing remarks in Tracey's direction and for her part, Tracey merely glared at the floor and bit on her tongue to keep herself from retorting. When time came for her to head to the Greengrass' home, Tracey was too glad to go, forgetting in her desperate desire to get away to feel at all nervous about spending the remainder of the Holidays with a few strangers.

Even the knowledge that she wouldn't be seeing her mother again until perhaps Christmas Holidays could not make her sorry to part from her, nor warmed her to the idea of having a warm goodbye with her.

"Do you have everything? I don't want you owling because you forgot something, nor do I want you to owl me that you want to come home if you don't like it there, you understand me?" her mother asked as they stood before the fireplace, Tracey tried not to roll her eyes as she nodded her head in response. "Well, you should get ready to step through. I'm sure their already expecting you. You best be on your best behavior and not embarrass me."

Tracey once more nodded, gripping the handle of her trunk tightly with her left hand as she gritted her teeth to keep form saying anything rude to her mother. He mother merely huffed and thrust a small black box at her. Tracey reached inside it and grabbed a fistful of Floo powder before stepping into the fireplace. "Greengrass Country Manor," she stated clearly, careful not to breathe in as the fire flashed green and she felt herself spinning.

It was great effort that Tracey kept a tight grip on her trunk and kept her eyes from brimming with tears as the living room after living room spun around her while soot and ash floated around her. Before long, she was stepping out of what she hoped was the right grate. Taking a deep breath and trying not to inhale ash, Tracey pulled her wand from her dress pocket and pointed it at herself to make all the soot that covered her vanish. Stowing it back in her pocket, she looked up and tried to keep from fidgeting at the gaze of the four people that stood before her.

The first she noted immediately was Daphne, dressed in robes of sea-foam green that matched the ribbons in her pale-blonde hair. Daphne was smiling brightly at her, practically bouncing on her toes as she held her hands behind her back. Like Tracey, Daphne had grown an inch or so taller since she had last seen her and Tracey could just see her budding chest in the summer, dress-robes she wore with three-quarter length sleeves.

Standing next to Daphne, and looking significantly bored was a smaller girl dressed in greyish-green robes that were almost exactly like the one's Daphne wore. By the looks of it, the girl appeared to be about nine or ten, though Tracey guessed ten as she remembered Daphne mentioning her sister was two years younger than her.

Astoria Greengrass, in contrast to her sister, had dark-brown hair almost the exact same shade as Tracey's. However, where Astoria's hair was a solid mahogany color, Tracey's hair actually had traces of red. Astoria's hair was also curlier, like her sisters, and reached almost down to the girls small waist. However, apart from height, hair color and eye color, as Astoria's eyes were a shade of dark blue Tracey had never before seen, Astoria looked almost identical to her older sister.

Behind both girl's stood a tall, slender woman dressed in pale blue robes. She had curly blonde hair the exact shade as Daphne's, held up in a fancy chignon, with curls falling loose and barely touching her shoulders. Her eyes were the same color as Astoria's and she resembled both girls rather a lot, though her lips were thinner than her daughters and painted red.

Next to her stood a tall man with broad shoulders and stern features despite the small, polite smile he bore. He had dark hair like his youngest daughter, and a goatee and connecting mustache to go with it. Mr. Greengrass wore robes of dark-grey with pinstripes. His eyes were a pale blue, that made Tracey wonder where Daphne had gotten the her honey-colored eyes from as neither her parents nor her sister had eyes that shade.

"You must be Tracey Davis, our daughter has told us so much about you," Mrs. Greengrass started in a voice that was all honey. Tracey had a hard time not smiling at the woman who was smiling so warmly at her.

"Yes, it's nice to meet you," Tracey said, extending her hand. However, Mrs. Greengrass merely chuckled and stepped around her daughters and drew Tracey into a hug. Tracey's eyes widened as she stiffened in the woman's grasp. The woman's touch made her uncomfortable as she suddenly felt a loneliness, like a hole, that she desperately wanted to fill by giving the love she couldn't give in any way possible; even by giving that love to anyone that would accept it.

However, before Trace could get too uncomfortable the woman stepped away. "Have you eaten yet, Tracey dear?" Tracey shook her head in response, not sure she could answer the woman she suddenly felt an overwhelming amount of pity for, though she didn't exactly know why the woman felt that way. "Marvelous then, you must join us for breakfast."

With that she clapped her hands and an ugly little creature that Tracey had never seen before appeared. Curiously, she watched the ugly, little thing as it bowed deeply to Mrs. Greengrass. "Binky, set up another place at the table for Tracey, and take her things up to Daphne's room," Mrs. Greengrass instructed before turning back to Tracey as the creature disappeared along with her trunk. "I hope you don't mind staying with Daphne. Of course we have a few guest rooms, but I thought perhaps you may feel more comfortable sharing with Daphne, since this is your first time in a strange place; since you share a dorm with her I thought it might give you some comfort. Or do you mind?"

Tracey shook her head. "Not at all Mrs. Greengrass. Whatever is most convenient, I mean if Daphne doesn't mind," Tracey stated uncertainly, looking over to Daphne as she wasn't sure the other girl was okay with this arrangement. Tracey'd never really had anyone else in her room, and she wasn't sure she would want to share her personal space with anyone else. As it was, she found sharing a dorm with three other girls a bit trying at times. Although, she was all right with it as long as no one touched her things.

"Not at all," Daphne replied with a smile in return. Tracey nodded as Mrs. Greengrass took her by the arm and led everyone into the dining room. A room as large and lavish as the sitting room she had just stepped into but hadn't gotten much of a chance to look at.

The dining room was of course dominated by a very large, rectangular table that easily seated twelve. It was covered in a thick, silvery blue table cloth with an intricate design and surrounded on all sides by high backed chairs of deep mahogany. The walls were pale blue in color with designs in cream. One wall was lined completely by windows, going the entire length of table and draped in white curtains.

The table was set for five, one setting placed at the head of the table where Mr. Greengrass took his seat. Mrs. Greengrass led Tracey to the seat directly on Mr. Greengrass' left while she sat opposite of Tracey, seated directly on Mr. Greengrass' right hand side. Daphne took the seat on Tracey's other side, while Astoria sat next to her mother, across from her sister.

"After breakfast, Daphne can show you around the manor and help you get settled in, how does that sound?" Mrs. Greengrass smiled at Tracey. Tracey felt a bit overwhelmed by the attention, not to mention the splendor of their home, so in contrast to what she was used to at home that for the moment all she could do was nod and smile uncertainly.

"Sounds great," she bit out, her throat tight. Mrs. Greengrass didn't seem to notice and merely smiled.

**XxX**

"I'm sorry about my mum, I know she can be a bit much. And sorry about my dad... he's like that," Daphne commented as they made their way around the manor. She'd already given Tracey a quick overview of the ground floor from the dining room, sitting room, a brief glance into her father's study, a small library, and the kitchen area that no one ever really stepped into as it was the domain of the house-elf Binky.

"Does he usually ask so many questions about... school?" Tracey asked, as Mr. Greengrass positively grilled her about her studies.

Daphne shrugged her shoulders as she led Tracey up the stairs to the second floor. "He... doesn't particularly like that I'm friends with Pansy. He thinks Pansy is an idiot, he's not particularly kind about her, but my mum and Pansy's were best friends when they were our age, so they've always brought us together when they spent time together so father has to accept it. He just hopes the friends I make on my own are more likely to further my academic career rather than... distract me. But I think he likes you."

"Because I'm not an idiot?" Tracey asked. Daphne laughed and nodded her head as they reached the landing and Daphne started showing her around the second floor, which was mostly bedrooms. At the end of one hall she pointed to the master bedroom with its double doors. One wing led to the guestrooms. The other, to Daphne and Astoria's rooms. Daphne explained quickly that each room had it's own private bathroom.

"And this is my room," Daphne explained, bringing Tracey inside. Tracey couldn't help feeling impressed by the size of the room. The bed was rather large, and at the foot was Tracey's trunk. The bedspread was white, the pillows white and a grey-green. The wall behind Daphne's bed was grey, while the rest were the same green of her pillows. The floor were hardwood, which matched the nightstand and the full length mirror in one corner of the room.

Daphne had a large walk in closet with sliding doors to the left of her bed. It was painted pale pink, and had windows at the back that bathed the closet in light. One side was covered in hanging clothes while there were drawers opposite and shelves filled with shoes with a large selection. A door on the right of her bed, Tracey assumed led to the adjoining bathroom.

"Unfortunately, my bathroom is a jack-and-jill sort, so it connects my room to Astoria's. So you'll have to close and lock both doors if you're in there," Daphne explained to Tracey as they stood in her room. "So what do you think?"

"I think your room is twice the size of mine if not larger," Tracey replied, a bit dazed at the size and splendor. She neglected to mention that Daphne's room was a lot tidier than Tracey's. Everything just appeared to be... just so carefully constructed. Tracey was almost afraid to touch anything.

Daphne fidgeted with her hands nervously, feeling a bit uncomfortable. "Yes well... I suppose that's what happens when you come from old money and your father is a work-a-holic you don't spend quality time with," Daphne responded in a small voice, causing Tracey look at the blonde curiously. That was perhaps the most intimate thing she'd ever told Tracey, and it was said in a softly defensive tone.

Tracey shrugged at the girl she'd begun to consider the a friend through their letters this past summer. Somehow, she felt Daphne's response sort of... needed some reciprocation on her part. "At least he stuck around," she mumbled, looking away and studying the walls. There were paintings of blue/violet freesias on the walls.

Daphne chose not to respond to this. She merely walked over to Tracey and held her hand, causing Tracey to look at their joined hands before looking into Daphne's face which was smiling lightly at her. "Come, I'll show you the grounds," Daphne invited warmly.

**XxX**

"Mum wants you both inside," a haughty little voice called from where Tracey and Daphne stood, looking out over the small pond on the Greengrass property. Both Tracey and Daphne turned and watched as Astoria Greengrass stopped a few feet from them and crossed her arms over her chest. "She wants to take us to Diagon Alley. She says we have to pick up our party frocks for your birthday tomorrow. She also wants to get you friend something, I don't know why. I suppose she doesn't want someone who looks so poor at your party and embarrassing her in front of her friends."

Daphne flushed a deep scarlet at her sisters little rant as the smaller girl turned on her heels and marched back up to the house. For her part, Tracey was significantly unimpressed. However, she felt her stomach twist in anger. She wanted to reach out and rip the hair from Astoria Greengrass' little head. However, after a year of more or less the same kind of behavior from Pansy Parkinson, Tracey couldn't bring herself to really care that much. Besides, it would be terrible manners of her to assault the youngest Greengrass when she was staying in their home for over a week.

"I'm so sorry about that, Tracey. Astoria is a little spoiled and can be rude, but that was just beyond-" Daphne started apologizing, her embarrassment and horror at her younger sister's behavior rolling off her in waves.

Tracey raised a hand to stop Daphne. "I think she's jealous that you're going to be spending time with me this week, and that she won't get to see you again until Holidays and that I'll be going off to school with you while she's stuck here," Tracey explained, having felt the envy coming off Astoria since her arrival. It had become more apparent over the breakfast table as she played with her food angrily while her father asked Tracey questions about school. "She didn't really mean that whole thing about your mother getting me something, did she?" she asked as an afterthought, frowning and feeling uncomfortable at the prospect of someone other than her mother buying her clothes.

Daphne smiled, looking a bit relieved but still apologetic. "Unfortunately she does, but not for the reasons Astoria stated. My mother loves to shop. She also likes to play dress up with Tori and I. She's probably ecstatic to have someone else to dress up like a little doll. Please, just let her have her way. She'll get it eventually, she's very persistent. Besides, it makes her happy," Daphne explained with a shrug of her shoulders.

Tracey thought back to the sentiments she felt coming from the Greengrass matriarch. Sighing, she nodded her head. The woman was clearly not completely fulfilled in her life, and if this small thing brought her happiness, how could Tracey refuse without insulting her host?

Daphne grinned brightly. "Thank you, Tracey," she stated happily, grabbing Tracey's hand warmly and all but skipping back to the house with Tracey in tow.

**TBC...**

**A/n: **I am currently without internet, which is the reason for the extremely slow update and I'm not sure when I'll be able to update again. I'm really sorry. As always please review.


	13. Book 2, Chapter 3: Blurry

**~X~x~X~**

**The Wallflowers**

**~X~x~X~**

**Book 2: Chamber of Secrets**

_**Chapter 3:**_

**Everything's So Blurry, And Everyone's So Fake, And Everybody's Empty. **  
_(Blurry- Puddle of Mudd)_

Tracey sighed unhappily as she stood before Daphne's full-length mirror and looked down at herself. She was wearing robes of forest green that came down to the floor and had short sleeves and a v-neck neckline embroidered in gold. Mrs. Greengrass said the color brought out the color of her eyes. Tracey felt the robes made her look even paler than she already was. Not to mention, they were quite a bit more fitted than what she was used to, making them look more like a dress. There was a sash of gold tied around her hips and falling down the middle. Tracey didn't like the fact that her hair was all tied up in a loose chignon either.

However, it had made Mrs. Greengrass happy to get her ready and Tracey found herself incapable of saying no to the woman, when she was sure it would break the woman. Besides, how could she say no after the lady had bought her all the books she'd wanted in Flourish and Blotts when they stopped in while they were in Diagon Alley? Which had been a grand total of five books, and that was because she managed to plead with the woman that the other five she wanted were not necessary; not to mention the fact that in a way... Tracey found herself craving these small attentions she had never before received from her mother.

However, she felt even more uncomfortable by the gold necklace Mrs. Greengrass had lent her. She kept touching it to make sure it was still there, so as to not lose it. It was a reasonably simple chain, with a heart-shaped little pendant of solid gold. However, the thought of losing the simple yet surely expensive piece of jewelery set her a bit on edge.

"Trace, are you still hiding up here?" Daphne asked as she walked into her room to find Tracey still standing before the mirror. Tracey looked at Daphne, her discomfort apparent on her face. "Come on! Almost everyone's here and Theo is asking for you."

Tracey sighed as she allowed Daphne to tug her out of her room and down the stairs. Daphne's birthday celebration was a lawn party. A white tent had been set up on the Greengrass' extensive lawn, along with tables for the occasion. The previous night, before falling asleep, she and Daphne lay awake in bed, both facing each other and talking about the party. Daphne of course was ecstatic and Tracey was curious about just who was attending. She was rather surprised by some of the guests invited. Namely Theodore and Blaise.

Though in the last few weeks of school Daphne had spent some time in the company of the boys studying, Tracey wasn't aware that had warranted them an invite. Especially considering that Tracey was quite sure that Daphne hadn't completely warmed up to Theo and still was slightly afraid of him. However, she supposed that Daphne couldn't rightly not invite both boys as that would be a very decided snub that she'd have to deal with once they were back in the school. Theo would probably not make a fuss about it, but Tracey could see Blaise reacting to it unfavorably.

"You should see Astoria. She got one look at Draco and now she's trailing after Draco like a puppy. She's making Pansy livid!" Daphne giggled as they made their way through the house and to the back doors that led to the back lawn where the tents were set up.

"So Draco's never been here before?" Tracey asked with interest.

Daphne shook her head. "My parents and his were acquainted but never close. Of course I'd seen Draco before at the Parkinson's, but no, I've never been to Malfoy Manor nor he to our Manor," Daphne explained quickly and confidentially as they surpassed groups of adults once at the tents. Before long, Daphne had navigated them to the group of Slytherins they went to school with.

Astoria was wearing robes or grey-blue while Daphne wore rose-pink ones. Draco was dressed shockingly in white. Theo wore robes of midnight blue. Tracey, despite her discomfort in her appearance was quick to gravitate to Theo, whom she hadn't realized she had missed quite so much as she quickly hugged him.

"I didn't particularly peg you for a hugger," Theo commented wryly, sounding a bit put off, though his eyes gleamed with amusement. Tracey merely gave him a small shove, completely ignoring Draco's rude comments about her stay at the Greengrass home. Though they weren't directed at her so much as to Pansy and perhaps even Astoria who was trying to dominate his attention by spewing of what little she could about Tracey's stay in their home.

"Where is Blaise?" Tracey asked, not able to hide her confusion at the other boy's absence. She was sure that Daphne had invited Blaise to her birthday party and that he would be here, standing right beside Theo as he usually was.

"He couldn't make it," Theodore responded distractedly as he stared at Draco and shook his head discreetly at him, not that anyone else seemed to notice. "Let's go get something to drink, Tracey," Theodore commented before moving away and leaving Tracey to follow. "You look nice by the way," he added as an afterthought without turning to look at her as she walked beside him.

Tracey furrowed her brow. Unconsciously, she reached to the little, borrowed, heart-shaped pendant and let out a sigh of relief that it was still there. Though she felt perhaps she was being too worrisome, as the clasp of the chain was sturdy enough not to simply break. "How has your summer been?" Tracey asked once they had reached the refreshments table and they each picked a crystal glass that was filled with punch at their touch.

Theodore shrugged his shoulders. "Well enough," he replied simply, sipping from his glass. "Yours?"

Tracey looked around the room, spotting Mr. Malfoy standing beside a tall, slender, beautiful woman and the Daphne's parents. "Fine," she replied distractedly as she watched Mrs. Malfoy, who held gingerly onto her husbands arm. From where she stood, Tracey found the woman to be rather beautiful with long, straight, silvery-blonde hair that reached her waist. "I'm glad it's almost over," Tracey added, turning her attention slowly back to her friend who like her had grown since last she had seen him so that he was still several inches taller than her.

Theodore nodded in agreement as they started walking around together, the crystal glasses they held refilling themselves magically whenever they found themselves empty. "Have you checked out our books for this year?"

Tracey shook her head. "I only flipped through Lockhart's books and skimmed a few pages of Standard Book of Spells for this year," Tracey replied with a small frown. If she could help it, she would spend the rest of her time at the Greengrass' looking over her schoolbooks. "Have you?" she asked, already imagining the answer as Theodore voraciously read whatever he got his hands on. He was even more of a bookworm than she was.

Theodore grimaced as he nodded. "I tried to read Lockhart's, but... they are deplorable," Theodore responded with clear disgust on his face and voice, surprising Tracey as she had never seen Theodore really show a whole lot of emotion. "I think all hopes for our Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher this year have gone out the window. If she is a fan of Lockhart, she will be awful."

"Who says it's a she?" Tracey asked, feeling a bit offended at the assumption.

Theodore gave her a pointed look. "Lockhart's fans are mostly witches, Trace. It's a fact." Tracey merely glared at Theodore but said no more on the subject. Theodore, sensing that he had somehow offended his friend was quick to change the subject, telling her about the brawl he'd heard Draco's dad got into with Ron Weasley's father in Flourish and Blotts.

Tracey furrowed her brow as she listened and turned to look for Mr. Malfoy. Somehow, she found she had a hard time picturing a man of his status getting into a fight in a crowded bookshop. "That seems hard to believe," Tracey told him.

"Oh it happened, everyone was talking about it in the Leaky Cauldron that day. I happened to be getting my books the same day with Blaise and his mother," Theodore told her. Tracey merely nodded her head. For a moment, she contemplated telling Theodore about her mother having once dated Mr. Malfoy, but for some reason decided against it wondering why she'd even thought to tell him about it in the first place. It was irrelevant and ancient history.

"So... where is Blaise?" Tracey asked instead, finding that she was rather curious and hoping the only reason that Theodore hadn't told her about it was because they were surrounded by their classmates.

Theodore seemed to deliberate whether or not to tell her for a moment before responding. "Funeral," he responded after a moment. Tracey felt her eyes widen.

"His stepfather?" she blurted before she could stop herself. Theodore nodded gravely. "What happened to him?"

Theodore merely shrugged his shoulders. "Died in his sleep it seems. Suppose the man was old enough for that not to be _too_ unlikely," he responded with a furrowing of his brow. A similar expression crossed Tracey's face as she slowly drank juice and lost herself in thought wondering how many funerals Blaise had no attended in his short life and wondered if he knew whether or not his mother was a murderer. The idea seemed awful to her.

Though Tracey found that she almost hated her mother, for being so cold and... hateful almost, she couldn't help feeling that even she was better than Mrs. Zabini. Tracey merely hoped she'd never have to meet the woman in her life. Meeting Mr. Malfoy seemed enough for one lifetime to desire meeting anymore of her Housemate's undesirable parents.

**XxX**

Tracey considered the rest of the party a rather dull affair and tried to maintain her distance from everyone but Theodore. Though, running into Mr. and Mrs. Malfoy had been rather unavoidable. Of course, it had turned out to be a short and unpleasant encounter.

"Theodore, how nice to see you again. And Miss Davis how delightful to see you here," Mr. Malfoy stated coldly when he came across Tracey and Theodore, looking between the two, slouching twelve-year olds. "I imagine your father is thrilled by your acquaintance with Tracey, is he?" Mr. Malfoy asked, directing an almost malign smirk at Theodore who managed to maintain a completely blank look in both his eyes and facial expression.

Mr. Malfoy did not await a response from either of them as Tracey glared up at him. He merely reached behind him and drew his wife alongside him and directing her attention to Tracey and Theo. "Narcissa, look who we have here. This is Tracey Davis, Regina's daughter... you remember, your old friend Regina?"

Tracey furrowed her brow as she turned to look at Draco's mother, a woman of exceeding beauty and blonde hair that reached the small of her back and fell perfectly straight. It was perhaps the whitest-blonde hair that Tracey had ever seen and for a moment, as she looked at the crystal blue eyes of Draco's mother, she wondered if the woman were in fact part Veela. In her slender hand, she held a flute of white wine.

As Tracey looked into Mrs. Malfoy's eyes, she felt the woman's shock and... almost a sense of nostalgia as her eyes drank in Tracey's appearance. Tracey felt herself slip into Mrs. Malfoy's mind and caught flashes of the woman, as perhaps she had been in her childhood with a girl with equally long but brunette hair. Tracey was stunned by the realization that the girl was in fact, her mother, who she recognized by her very distinctive yellow eyes.

"You were friends with my mother?" Tracey asked in a dreamy voice as she continued to watch memories Narcissa had of her mother. It was very clear that once, her mother and Draco's had once been very close friends. Much closer than Tracey was with Daphne.

"Yes," she replied coldly, causing Tracey to snap out of her memories and focus on the woman before her. The blonde, slender woman was now holding herself straighter and looking at Tracey with a look of mild disgust. "Are you sure this is her daughter, Lucius? She looks almost nothing like her," Mrs. Malfoy commented, not turning her gaze away from Tracey who she was still studying.

Tracey couldn't help reaching and touching the little heart-shaped pendant that hung around her neck, touching it for reassurance. "Yes, quite sure. I ran into them in Diagon Alley some weeks ago," he replied offhandedly. Tracey only turned to look at the man who was still smirking, his silver-grey eyes glinting in a sadistic sort of amusement at watching her squirm.

Tracey tried to ignore how inadequate they made her feel. She hated being made feel so tiny, like she were some bug and so far beneath them. Beside her, she could feel slight anger and an almost fierce sort of protectiveness. Furrowing her brow, she turned to look and would've been thoroughly shocked to find Theo standing there, had she not previously been aware of it. As it was, she was confused and curious about the sentiments she felt coming off her usually very calm and almost emotionally-numbed friend. His watery-grey eyes were hard and narrowed on Malfoy senior.

"She must have more of that... _muggle_ she married in her," Narcissa Malfoy commented, saying the word muggle almost as one would spit in insult, her words underlined with the disgust she felt. Though, Tracey felt the woman's disgust less than she felt the woman's... defensiveness. Tracey turned to look at Mrs. Malfoy once more curiously, wondering why she felt a bit threatened. However, her curiosity was overshadowed by her worry.

She turned to look at Theo who was regarding her with a searching look. Tracey felt a sense of dread that someone in her house now knew for certain that she had at least one muggle parent. However, despite the curiosity Theodore felt, Tracey didn't feel his sentiments change. She felt no sudden disgust on his part.

Turning back to the Malfoy's, Tracey set her features and straightened her spine. She wasn't going to allow them to belittle them anymore. However, her mother's warning reigned in her anger to an extent so that she merely looked both Malfoy's in the eye and muttered a cold farewell to them before striding away only vaguely aware that Theodore was following around behind her.

For a time, Tracey didn't say anything, simply marched away quickly and away form the tents. The Greengrass' had a hedge maze, soon Tracey found herself at one of the openings and sat herself down at one of the stone benches that ran at intervals along it's sides. Crossing her arms over her chest, she glared down at her feet, trying to get over her humiliation as her cheeks flamed red. Hearing Theodore approaching the bench, but not taking a seat, she felt that she had reached her limit.

Looking up, she glared at the expressionless and serene boy before her. "Well now you know my dirty secret! My dad was a muggle!" she snarled viciously.

"Was?" Theodore asked quietly, nonplussed by her raised and angry tone as he approached her slowly and sat next to her. His calm demeanor washed over her and seemed to sedate her own feelings.

"He left, he couldn't deal with magic, or the secrecy of it all," Tracey replied a bit tersely, not knowing why she was letting him in this much. It was something about the almost soft expression in his eyes, or perhaps she simply knew that Theodore wasn't like other Slytherins. Perhaps it was because if anyone could understand hating the man that was half of the reason for your existence, it would be Theodore. "He didn't want us enough to be able to accept it," Tracey whispered, looking away and down at her lap.

For a long time, Theodore didn't say anything. Every second that passed in silence put Tracey on edge. She had just begun berating herself for sharing so much when she felt a hand tentatively grab onto hers and hold it. Tracey looked up in surprise, as Theodore was never one for contact, much less ever initiated.

"You don't care?" she asked stupidly.

Theodore shook his head. "But don't let anyone know that, if it got to my father, he might just kill me," Theodore replied a bit darkly. Tracey looked at the gangly boy next to her in almost awe.

"I won't tell," she whispered. Theodore merely nodded and turned away, though he still held her hand, his larger hand able to engulf hers almost completely.

"Who's your mum?" Theodore asked after a few moments, turning to look at Tracey curiously. Tracey turned to give him a questioning look. "Well... she's obviously a witch... or a pureblood if the Malfoys know her."

"Regina Rookwood, before she married," Tracey replied after some consideration. However, she didn't see a point of keeping that secret any longer, at least not from Theodore. He already knew her father was a muggle and that he had abandoned them, something Tracey didn't think she'd ever really tell someone, least not so explicitly. "Who was Mrs. Malfoy, before she married Draco's dad?"

"Narcissa Black," Theodore replied. "You've heard of the Blacks right?"

Tracey furrowed her brow and thought, before responding. "Wasn't Sirius Black the one that killed all those muggles with one curse?" Tracey asked after a moment. Theodore nodded.

"Draco's mother and Sirius Black are cousins. Her sister married Rodolphous Lestrange, she's in Azkaban for attacking the Longbottom's, they were Auror's. They were trying to get information on the whereabouts of You-Know-Who," Theodore explained further. Tracey nodded, taking in all this information. She hadn't really heard about the Lestrange's but perhaps once before and she had never connected the woman Bella-something with Sirius Black.

"Longbottom? Like, as in Neville, the incompetent Gryffindor?" Tracey asked after a moment, as she recalled the fat boy from their first flying lesson. Theodore nodded. She wanted to ask how it was possible two Aurors had churned out _that_. However, she said nothing thinking that perhaps that might cause offense as it would almost be implying that children usually turn out like their parents, and she didn't imagine he wanted to be compared to his father.

Both Slytherins sat in silence for a while before Theodore stood, letting go of her hand. "Do you want to explore the maze?" Theodore asked, motioning behind Tracey. Tracey turned around and studied the dark maze for a moment before shaking her head.

The hedges were at least ten feet tall, and the maze was as big as the Quidditch pitch at the school.

Standing, Tracey stared at the structure and shivered. She wasn't sure what it was about it, but she didn't like it. The place had an almost dark aura. Something in her mind seemed to tell her that the hedge-maze had bad memories, which were like ghost which haunted it; she imagined slipping into it would be something akin to slipping into a nightmare. She'd had enough of nightmares for one summer.

**TBC...**

**A/n:** Still without a internet. Thank you to all the people who have reviewed lately! I'm so glad people are enjoying this and thank you so much for your words. I hope you all continue to enjoy this story. And I hope the next update won't be so long.


	14. Book 2, Chapter 4: Reaching Out

**~X~x~X~**

**The Wallflowers**

**~X~x~X~**

**Book 2: Chamber of Secrets**

_**Chapter 4:**_

**Are You Calling Me? Are You Trying to Get Through? Are You Reaching Out For Me? I'm Reaching Out For You.**  
_(Beautiful- Eminem)_

The remainder of the week, was a bit dull by comparison. The Greengrass' had a sort of routine. They all ate breakfast in the morning together, before Mr. Greengrass took off for work. Then, Mrs. Greengrass would return to bed to sleep for a few more hours, leaving Daphne, and Astoria mainly to themselves; Astoria domineering most of her sister's time by forcing her to play until lunch, when they joined their mother outside for a lunch on their patio.

The afternoon was spent much the same as the morning, only with Mrs. Greengrass domineering their time with activities of her choosing. Dinner was always had later than most people, as they awaited the return of Mr. Greengrass from the Ministry, which usually not until late in the evening. After dinner they all settled into the sitting room under the watchful gaze of Mr. Greengrass, usually quiet hours spent reading until the girls were made to retire to bed.

For the most part, Tracey tried to tolerate the Greengrass-household routine. However, Astoria was particularly trying. With every passing day, she seemed to get worse and Tracey was no at all displeased when September first at last came. Astoria stayed at home under the care of the Greengrass house-elves, while Mr. and Mrs. Greengrass took Tracey and Daphne to King's Cross, arriving to London by floo via the Leaky Cauldron and taking a Ministry car to the station.

"Mum doesn't let Tori come, because she thinks Tori will throw a tantrum," Daphne whispered to Tracey as they sat together in the back of the Ministry car and made their way. Tracey nodded her head at this, understanding completely. However, she could tell that Daphne was a bit saddened to leave her sister behind. Though Tracey did not understand it, Daphne cared for her sister; loved her in fact. Tracey could only imagine it was because Daphne must have infinite patience. If it had been Tracey, she probably would have gotten rid of Astoria when she was a toddler.

The rest of the trip was relatively quick. It wasn't long before they were trudging onto Platform Nine and Three-quarters. Once there, Tracey was quick to say her farewells to Daphne's parents once Mr. Greengrass had their trunks loaded up. "Thank you for having me," Tracey said, returning to both Mr. and Mrs. Greengrass, shaking the man's outstretched hand and accepting Mrs. Greengrass' hug which she tried to pry herself away form as quickly as possibly due to the woman's separation anxiety. "I'll save you a seat?" Tracey asked, being as she was unsure if Daphne would actually join her.

Daphne smiled gratefully and nodded. Tracey nodded in response before waving goodbye to the Greengrass' and searching the train for an empty compartment. However, she came across Blaise first and joined him in his, assuming that at some point they'd be joined by Theodore. "Hello Blaise," Tracey commented, taking the seat opposite. Blaise merely nodded at her before turning his gaze back to gaze on the platform.

She could feel his foul mood from where she sat and decided that perhaps it hadn't been the best idea to join him, but thought that it was too late to remove herself now. Sitting back, she reached into her robe pocket and pulled out one of her schoolbooks from within, one of Lockheart's. She'd been able to get through_ Standard Book of Spells, Grade 2_, though she had woefully been unable to practice very many of the spells in it as the Greengrass' actually enforced the statute against underage sorcery in their home, unlike her mother who didn't really care.

She had just started reading _Break with a Banshee_ a few days ago. Mr. Greengrass it appeared, like Theodore, greatly disapproved of Gilderoy Lockheart's books and Tracey could see why. They read more like fictional tales than anything else, and the narration was egotistical and narcissistic. Tracey didn't know how anyone could possibly read such rubbish.

It wasn't long before they were joined by Daphne, who immediately sensed Blaise's mood bad was quick to excuse herself, claiming to want to look for Pansy once more leaving Blaise and Tracey alone. However, Blaise was still to wrapped up in his thoughts, brooding, and Tracey trying to get through the painfully dreadful schoolbook to really care. It wasn't until the train was finally underway that Theodore finally joined them.

Looking up, Tracey had to do a double-take when she spotted the bruise on the boys jaw. Her eyes widened and she jumped out of her seat. "Theodore! What happened?" she couldn't help asking as she looked at him. However, he couldn't quite meet her eyes.

"Not now," he replied calmly, nodding at Blaise when the boy turned to look at him. Tracey turned to the dark-skinned boy. She could feel his anger fade and be replaced by concern for his friend, however, it did not show in his facial expression or actions as he merely turned away after sharing a look with Theodore.

Tracey nodded in response, dropping the subject, not wanting to push Theodore, but she couldn't help feeling concern for the boy, nor the overwhelming desire to talk to him, or do something to somehow help him. For the rest of the ride, she couldn't help watching him, however, Theodore buried his nose in a book and absolutely refused to meet anyone's eye, causing Tracey's frustration only to mount.

**XxX**

"You can't make Theodore talk about anything he doesn't want to. I suggest if you don't want him to get angry with you, you stop looking at him. And believe me, you don't want him to be angry with you. When he gives someone the cold shoulder, it could be ages before he so much as looks at you again," Blaise whispered to her quickly after grabbing her arm and pulling her off to the side after the longest train ride in living history.

Tracey furrowed her brow as she met Blaise's gaze in the darkened station platform in Hogsmead. As she stared into his syrup colored eyes, she could see what Blaise meant. The memory in the forefront of Blaise's mind happened to be a memory from when he and Theo were about six or seven. Blaise, having tired of being ignored over a book, had ripped the book from Theo's hands and torn the pages out in a fit. Theo's response was merely to look at his friend and walk out of the room after a moment without looking back. It seemed that afterward, Theo had refused to speak to Blaise until the dark-skinned boy had presented the other with a pile of brand new books by way of apology.

Before Tracey could ask Blaise anything, the boy had turned and walked away, following Theo and the throng of other students making their way towards the carriages. Sighing, Tracey merely followed after; she didn't like the situation, but she figured it was better not to make things worse.

"What are you doing?" Blaise asked Theodore as they reached the carriage he was standing at. Tracey furrowed her brow as she came to stand next to Blaise and stared at Theo with their brows drawn together as Theodore was standing at the carriage and staring at the space before them curiously.

"Theodore, are you all right?" Tracey couldn't help asking as she stared at her quiet friend. He was just standing, staring into space in the front of the carriage.

Slowly, Theodore looked away from whatever it was he was staring at and stared at his friends. He looked back and forth, between his friends and the space in front of the carriages. "What do you think draws them?" he asked quietly and unsurely. Blaise and Tracey both took a moment before they understood what he was asking.

"Magic? Who cares? Let's get in, before they all get filled up," Blaise said with a shrug and a huff of impatience before heading into the carriage beside them.

Tracey merely stood and watched Theodore, watching the expression on his face. He seemed a bit apprehensive and confused, before merely shrugging his shoulders and motioning Tracey inside the carriage; apparently shrugging off whatever it was that had been troubling him for the moment.

**XxX**

Tracey had just sat, between Theodore and Daphne, when she felt someone standing behind her. Turning slightly in her seat, feeling rather apprehensive, she turned only to find the smiling face of a familiar older girl. "Gemma," Tracey smiled, feeling relief and wondering why she had gotten so tense when she had felt the presence of someone behind her. She figured that she didn't expect the day to get any better.

"Hello, Tracey, how was your summer?" Gemma greeted with a light laugh as she felt Tracey stand up and throw her arms about her.

"Fine," Tracey shrugged, pulling away. "How was yours?" she asked. A shadow crossed Gemma's face, and the smile she bore slipped slightly as her eyes became clouded over. Tracey made herself look down at her feet to avoid looking into Gemma's eye and inadvertently slipping into the older girl's head. Somehow she felt that since she'd found out about Legillimency that perhaps she had been allowing herself to flow with it too much.

"It could have been better," she commented after a while. Tracey nodded her head and looked up after shuffling her feet in mild discomfort thinking that perhaps she really should have thought better than to ask Gemma how her summer had been.

"So... who're the new Slytherin Prefects?" Tracey asked.

"For the fifth years, Melinda Blackthorn and Robert Higgs, he's Terrence Higgs little brother," Gemma responded. Tracey nodded her head, even though she didn't really know who either of those people were. Though, she was quite sure that Terrence Higgs was on the Quidditch team. "I'll see you later Tracey," Gemma said, before hurrying along as the doors to the Great Hall were open and the First Years were led in by Professor McGonagall.

Tracey sighed and moved to sit down. She wasn't particularly looking forward to the sorting ceremony, thinking that it would be a horrible bore. As it was, she hadn't been able to help getting bored even at her own sorting. Though she supposed, at least she was relieved that she had already gotten through that ordeal.

"I can't believe it!" Tracey winced as she turned to look at Daphne after she had let lose a squeal, practically right next to the dark-haired girl's ear.

"What?" Tracey asked, slightly alarmed. Daphne turned to look at Tracey with her eyes sparkling with her excitement.

"Don't you see who's at the High Table? It's Lockhart!" Tracey's eyes widened in horror and she turned to look at the staff table and sure enough, there was the beaming egomaniac she recognized from the back of her textbooks. "You don't think he's our new Defense Professor do you? Wouldn't that be just perfect if he was? But it seems to good to be true, like a dream," she went on with a sigh.

Tracey merely blinked at Daphne, wondering what the hell was wrong with the blonde girl. "Didn't you hear, Daphne? Lockhart's our Defense Against Dark Arts Professor this year. It was all over the Daily Prophet. I was there when he made the announcement in Flourish and Blotts," Draco suddenly put in from where he sat across.

"You didn't mention that," Tracey muttered to her right, where Theodore was sitting, thinking that it had to be the same day that Mr. Malfoy got into that tussle with Mr. Weasley, the head of the Weasley clan.

"I didn't hear about that," Theodore replied with a look of disappointment as their house erupted in applause as the first, first year to be sorted into their House was announced. Tracey and Theodore joined in the clapping belatedly and without much enthusiasm as they both turned to look at the High Table and frowned at the smiling Lockhart who was talking Professor Flitiwick's ear off. Professor Flitwick looked like he was struggling to contort his facial expression into a smile, which looked painful from where Tracey sat.

"There is absolutely no hope for Defense this year," Tracey sighed as she looked along the staff table, with a furrowing of her brow. "Where is Professor Snape?" she suddenly asked, noting that he was not seated.

"Probably looking for Saint Potter. Didn't you notice he wasn't on the train, Davis?" Draco asked with derision. Tracey turned to look at Malfoy and merely shook her head as she wondered how the hell it was that Draco seemed to know everything that went on in the school. However, one look at Draco's sneering face made her worry at just what it was that his father may have told him.

**TBC...**

**A/n: **Am still without internet and currently updating from my local, public library. Thanks to you wonderful people who have taken the time to review. I'm glad that the story has been satisfactory so far and I hope I can update again soon. Much love!


	15. Book 2, Chapter 5: Get Through to You

**~X~x~X~**

**The Wallflowers**

**~X~x~X~**

**Book 2: Chamber of Secrets**

**Chapter 5:**

**And I'm Just Trying To Get Through To You, And I Am Failing. Lie Like I'm Not Even There.  
**_(Failing- Staind)_

The following morning, Tracey was amongst the first to wake up in her dorm. After getting ready she headed down to the Slytherin common room, and waited for a group before heading to the Great Hall. It was one of the unspoken rules of Slytherin house, to never be caught outside Slytherin's protections alone. Belatedly she realized she was following Melinda Blackthorn and a small group of her friends.

Last night, Melinda and her fellow fifth year Prefect had to give the welcoming speech to the first years. Tracey had stuck around the common room only long enough to hear it before heading up to bed. While the speech had differed from the one Gemma had given the previous year, it wasn't by much. The important points emphasizing House unity and denouncing preconceptions of blood-status were reiterated.

For her part, Melinda Blackthorn was a petite girl no bigger than Tracey. She had strawberry blonde hair that fell in perfect curls just past her shoulders and bright blue eyes. She seemed rather bubbly and the forgetful sort, as various times during her speech she had stumbled and paused while twirling curl around her finger until she recalled what she was trying to say.

Her fellow Prefect, Robert Higgs was tall and lithe. He was very pale with short, sandy-blonde hair that fell in waves down to his chin and brown, almond-shaped eyes. He was rather a very serious looking boy, his lips set almost constantly in a grim-line.

Once in the Great Hall, Tracey was quick to gravitated to an empty seat next to Theodore whom she spotted half-way down the Slytherin table. "Good morning Theo," she greeted, taking a seat next to him and not bothering to look at him as she started to grab a couple of pieces of toast. She had yet to figure out anything about the mysterious bruise on his face, though she didn't have to think of it much to figure out that it was bis father who put it there, a fact which bothered her deeply.

A mumbled '_good morning_' was all she got in response as Theodore continued to read the book he had open beside him. Tracey tried not to be bothered by this as she concentrated on eating her breakfast only pausing when Daphne walked by and greeter her.

Now that they were back at school, Pansy was monopolizing the blonde girl's time, as though she needed to reassert herself as Daphne's best friend. Tracey didn't care too much and almost felt relieved when considering the previous night; listening to both Pansy and Daphne squeal for hours about their new Defense Professor had been quite aggravating.

The sudden sound of yelling brought Tracey's attention to the Gryffindor table, the screams so loud they even managed to rip Theodore's eyes away from his book. Tracey grimaced slightly as she spotted the red envelope. "Who got the Howler?" Tracey asked, squinting to try and get a look of the unfortunate person who was receiving a severe tongue lashing.

"Ron Weasley. He and Potter apparently flew here on a bewitched automobile," Theodore responded as he turned his attention back to his book. "It's all over the Great Hall this morning."

Tracey looked at her friend incredulously wondering how that was even possible. "-WE DIDN'T BRING YOU UP TO BEHAVE LIKE THIS, YOU AND HARRY COULD BOTH HAVE DIED-" Tracey heard whom she assumed to be Mrs. Weasley continue to yell via Howler.

"Why wouldn't they just take the train?" Tracey wondered aloud. However, before they could go on the interesting events of the previous evening, a shadow fell over them. Tracey looked forward to find Professor Snape had just appeared and cast his long shadow on them from across the table. Tracey was quick to outstretch her hand and take her schedule after nudging Theodore and mumbling a terse '_Good morning, sir_'.

"Are adjustments necessary to your sleeping schedule, Miss Davis?" he asked in a low voice as his gaze met hers. Tracey narrowed her gaze at him and merely shook her head, despite being impressed that he had actually remembered that detail from their previous school year. Grudgingly, she had to admit that Professor Snape was actually a quite good Head of House, perhaps better at _that_ aspect of his job than he was at teaching. "Are you sure? I don't want any repeats of last year," Professor Snape questioned as he picked a schedule to hand to Theodore.

"I'm sure," Tracey replied through clenched teeth, feeling a bit offended and wondering why Snape felt the need to make sure. _Why couldn't he just take my word for it?_ she seethed.

Being with the Greengrass family, with their rigid scheduling, her sleeping schedule had already been modified. Daphne's parents had always made sure that they all went to sleep rather early and that they woke early as well. Tracey was honestly glad of that now, as it meant that she did not have to deal with Professor Snape outside of class as she was still not yet over the fact that he had betrayed her.

Professor Snape nodded curtly after narrowing his gaze at her while handing his schedule to Theodore. Tracey was about to turn her attention to her timetable when she noted Professor Snape narrow his eyes as he took in her friend seated next to her. A dark looked flashed across his face.

"Mr. Nott, see me in my office before class," he ordered before walking away to continue going down the table.

Tracey turned to look at Theo questioningly. However, he merely turned his attention to his schedule. She didn't have to be an empath to know that he didn't want to answer any of her questions yet regarding his bruise or what Professor Snape might want. With a sigh, she instead chose to turn her attention to her own schedule.

"Why is it that we are always stuck with the Ravenclaws for almost every class?" Tracey asked with a sigh of annoyance as she looked at what classes they had for the day, hoping that would at least cheer her up.

_**Monday**_

_9am- Charms_

_Lunch_

_1pm- Double Herbology_

"Because, academically speaking, we are the only ones on the same level as the Ravenclaws. I think this way they expect to give the other Houses a sporting chance at the House cup. Besides, Ravenclaws are the house we have least conflict with. We'd bully the Hufflepuffs too much, and fight with the Gryffindors too much," Theodore explained, not once looking up form his schedule.

"Fair point," Tracey responded, having never really thought of it that way before.

**XxX**

The rest of the week wore on rather slowly, and Tracey was surprised she found this first week of school more trying than the year previous. For one, Draco was prancing around particularly smugly these days. Since Tracey spotted him talking to Marcus Flint on the first day of classes after dinner in the Slytherin common room, he was strutting around even more insufferable than ever before.

Furthermore, Theodore was still not talking about the bruise, which had disappeared after his visit with Professor Snape. If Tracey so much as alluded to the bruise or his visit with Professor Snape, she was met with cold silence. It had even gotten to the point where Blaise pinched her when he thought she was getting dangerously close to making Theodore angry with her concern.

She supposed it didn't help matters that her menses happened to fall on the very first week of the month. Or that Gemma was spending rather a lot of time doing her Prefect duties. Or that Lockhart was an absolute idiot, and that Daphne had managed to score higher than she did in an exam, though to be fair it had been Lockhart's and the only reason she managed such a feat was because the exam had been all about _him_.

However, on Saturday afternoon Tracey wasn't the only one who was angry. She and Theodore had just been sitting out on the grounds, both of them practicing a couple charms when Blaise suddenly marched up to them and started pacing. Tracey was the first one to look up, having noticed the boy coming when he was still over ten feet away. The rage that was rolling off of him were more like tidal waves and were almost enough to send her staggering.

"What's wrong with you?" Tracey asked as she furrowed her brow, while trying to practice Occlumency to be free of the oppressive weight of the dark-skinned boy's anger. Blaise merely started pacing before her with his hands balled into fists.

Theodore looked up at his friend and watched him for a moment. "So Draco _did_ manage to get on the Slytherin team?"

Tracey furrowed her brow as she turned to look at Theodore in confusion. However, whatever he was talking about must have been spot on as Blaise was suddenly speaking in a very low tone, practically growling.

"They've all got_ Nimbus Two-thousand and One _brooms. That is the _only_ reason he's made the Quidditch team," Blaise spat. Tracey slowly started to understand what was going on now.

"I didn't know you cared for Quidditch," she commented, Blaise chose to ignore this as he continued to pace while both Tracey and Theodore merely looked on. It was quite some time later before Tracey finally tired of this and stood up, stretching. "I don't see why you care so much. You don't even want to be on the team, I don't see why you're reacting to it as though his buying his way onto the team has cost you a position," Tracey commented dryly.

"If I were you, I wouldn't be so quick to opine. You should be a good little witch and keep your mouth shut! Don't you know what could happen to people like you?" Blaise spat, glaring into Tracey's eyes, which were level with his own.

Tracey felt her blood turn to ice in her veins. Straightening her spine, she crossed her arms over her chest, holding the book in her arms close while trying to glare right back into Blaise's syrup colored eyes. "What do you mean, _people like me_?" she bristled, feeling her own righteous anger much stronger than Blaise's all-consuming hatred of women.

"I mean people of unknown magical origin. You may as well be a mudblood," Blaise retorted coldly while stepping closer to Tracey, however, she didn't back down and being the same height as they were, she could meet his gaze squarely on. "And whatever Farley and Blackthorn or Professor Snape may say, you'll find that over-half of Slytherin care very much for what kind of blood runs through your veins. So careful, _Tracey_, not to draw too much attention to yourself. You've been lucky, but that won't last."

Tracey, feeling her own anger and Blaise' fighting inside her simply couldn't take it anymore. The two waging forces inside her were enough to drive her mad. "_ARGH_!" she growled, dropping her book before launching herself at her fellow Slytherin and taking him completely by surprise she managed to tackle him to the ground.

Theodore was at once on his feet, while Blaise and Tracey rolled down the gentle slope, all flailing limbs and tangled robes. Blaise, for his part, merely tried to hold the girl off, while Tracey attempted to get at the boy's neck, completely blinded by her anger. The tussle was relatively short-lived as they were soon enough being pried apart.

"Stop," a voice Tracey didn't recognize, demanded. However, she ignored the command, even as she was being pulled to her feet along with Blaise. Her hands had only just found purchase on his neck and she was too intent on her purpose to choke him or at least gouge out a chunk of his neck, to be able to hear. "I SAID STOP ALREADY!" a highly pompous voice roared.

It seemed it was only by Theodore's help that the tall, skinny red-head managed to pry Tracey away. "What do you think you are doing?" the boy holding onto Tracey, panted as he wrapped his arms around her waist as she was still trying to get her hands on Blaise. She paused only as she felt her back pressed against the older boy's front and felt his embarrassments overshadow all the anger she had felt.

Blinking, she looked over at Blaise who was panting and still glaring at her, while his hands held onto his neck while Theodore inspected the damage Tracey had caused. Looking down at her hands, she noticed that there was some blood underneath her nails. In almost a daze, she looked over her shoulder and found herself staring at a unfamiliar face. However, affixed to the older red-heads cloak was a Prefect's badge and the Gryffindor crest.

"All right you lot, follow me," he stated irritably as he loosened his grasp around. "Gather your things and follow me." Tracey sighed, dreading that the boy would take them to their Head of House while wondering what had gotten into her.

**XxX**

"Sit!" McGonagall snapped. Tracey, Blaise and Theodore did as they were told and sat in the three chairs McGonagall had conjured up for them after Percy Weasley had taken them to her and explained what he had seen before being dismissed. "Miss Davis, would you care to explain your gross display of unladylike manners?" Professor McGonagall asked as she looked down her nose at Tracey sternly.

Tracey looked down at her knees and glared, her hands clenching for a moment, wondering why she was assumed the guilty party. "He threatened me," she responded indignantly, whilst looking up at Professor McGonagall defiantly. Personally she had nothing against the scottish Professor, despite her being the Head of Gryffindor.

"I did no such thing," Blaise refuted, to no one's surprise. However, he didn't get to say much before Professor McGonagall was cutting him off with a mere look.

"We will get to your side momentarily, Mr. Zabini," Professor McGonagall stated sternly, her scottish brogue thickening for a moment. "It is Miss Davis' turn now."

"I was just telling him that he shouldn't be so upset about a matter that hardly concerns him before heading up to the castle when he threatened me! He said I should be careful with what I said, because my origins are questionable," Tracey spat, shooting Blaise a nasty look across Theodore, who was misfortunate enough to be stuck in the middle. "He was telling me I should keep my head down, because I may as well be a _mudblood. _As if that had anything bearing on the conversation or had anything to do with what we were talking about!"

"You shouldn't stick your nose in anyone else's business... you wouldn't like it if they were looking into yours, would you?" Blaise retorted darkly, crossing his arms over his own chest, however refusing to look at her.

"Well if you didn't want anyone's opinion perhaps you should have kept it to yourself," Tracey retorted.

"It's not my fault you're always tagging along with Theodore! I didn't ask you-"

"ENOUGH!" Professor McGonagall stated, calling three sets of eyes to her. Theodore felt grateful that his friends were no longer arguing across him like he wasn't even there. Tracey, becoming aware of his discomfort belatedly, felt slightly guilty for treating her best friend as though he were invisible. "Clearly this is a matter for your Head of House. However, your behavior was atrocious, the both of you. Now sit tight and not a word from any of you while I fetch Professor Snape and inform him of your behavior."

All three Slytherin's tensed at these words as they watched her leave with something almost akin to panic. They weren't waiting long before she returned with Professor Snape, and excused herself form the room. Three sets of eyes were glued to their laps as they felt the heat of their Head glare on them. For Tracey, it was worse. She could feel the disappointment and anger from her Professor, while simultaneously feeling the emotions of her friends.

"Well?" a silky voice from over them asked, causing them to flinch as though they had been struck. It wasn't a good sign when Professor Snape was speaking in such a low and threatening voice. "I trust that you are all aware that you behavior has cast a pall on the reputation of our House and disgraced the name of Slytherin."

Tracey, Theodore and Blaise all nodded their heads silently. "Mr. Nott, why did you do nothing to stop this before things got out of hand? Did you think it would be amusing to watch your two, _supposed_ _friends_, duel or, as they so horrendously chose to do, roll on the floor like a pair of animals?"

"No sir," Theodore responded, knowing that Professor Snape did not require a real answer, but to not say anything at all would be worse.

"_You_ will receive two weeks of detention with Hagrid, for not stopping this sooner. Get out of my sight," Professor Snape hissed. Theodore got up to leave, while the other two remained seated, knowing that Professor Snape was not yet through with them. Once the door closed behind Theodore, Tracey felt her body tense.

"Mr. Zabini, I will not tolerate those kinds of threats in my House. Should I ever hear of you threatening another House-mate like this again, I will _expel_ you. You will serve three weeks worth of detention with Mr. Filch. You may return to your dorm now and contemplate the ramifications of your actions. You are only allowed to leave your dorm tonight for dinner, now get out," Snape snapped.

Tracey clenched the sides of her chair as she heard Blaise quickly stand and march out. She could still feel his anger, until he exit the room. The silence that suddenly assaulted her was almost suffocating. Her body was completely rigid and after a few minutes, she couldn't take it anymore and slowly lifted her gaze from where it had been glued to her lap to meet Professor Snape's who was regarding her coolly.

"I take it your... _powers_... affected the situation?" he asked silkily, regarding her almost cavalierly.

"Yes," Tracey gritted out, the subject still a sore one for her. However, she knew that it was absolutely pointless to lie about it to Snape.

"I thought so, you aren't stupid enough to get into a physical fight and forget your wand would be more effective," he retorted snidely, causing a blush to rise in Tracey's cheek. She glared at Professor Snape. "You will serve detention with me Miss Davis, starting Monday after dinner in my office."

"For how long?" Tracey asked as politely as she could muster as she stood and turned to watch Professor Snape march towards the door of Professor McGonagall's office and opening it.

"For as long as I see fit," he replied without looking back at her, closing the door behind himself leaving Tracey frozen with her ire.

**TBC...**


	16. Book 2, Chapter 6: Supress Your-

**A/n: **To the two people who bothered to review, you have my sincerest thanks. It's nice to know that someone is reading this story and enjoying it. As I now have internet once more, perhaps I won't take so long updating.

**~X~x~X~**

**The Wallflowers**

**~X~x~X~**

**Book 2: Chamber of Secrets**

**Chapter 6:**

**Hold Your Hands Up To Your Eyes Again. Hide From the Scary Scenes, Suppress Your Fears.  
**_(Dark Shines- Muse)_

When Tracey showed up in Professor Snape's office for the second week of her detention, she expected to be faced with more lines. After all, for the first week of her punishment that had been all she'd been doing, for two hours each night. They were all along the lines,_ 'I will not lower myself to fist-fights to resolve issues with fellow classmates_' to _'House unity is more important than petty squabbles'._

However, when she arrived, the chair that usually was set in front of Professor Snape's desk for her use was gone. Furrowing her brow in question, she looked at her Head of House where he sat behind his desk grading, she presumed. She waited for him patiently until he finished, as Professor Snape was not one to be interrupted when in the middle of something.

"Tonight Miss Davis, you will not be writing lines," Professor Snape started slowly after several minutes of silence while he finished whatever it was he was doing. He slowly stood and lifted his gaze to her. "I believe the message has sunk in sufficiently."

Tracey didn't say anything in response to this as she looked at Professor Snape with a mixture of curiosity and suspicion. Somehow, she rather doubted that this meant that her detentions were over. She didn't want her hopes to get up, only to have them dashed when he assigned to her a task just as tedious as writing lines. Professor Snape, she found, rather enjoyed luring people into a false sense of security.

"How much do you know about Occlumency, Miss Davis? You mentioned once reading about it," Tracey was caught off guard by this line of questioning. However, after recovering form her surprise, she narrowed her gaze on Professor Snape, her hands unconsciously balling into fists. She had a feeling she knew precisely what this was about.

"That it is meant to be used to keep others from seeing into your mind and I've practiced the mind-clearing exercises," Tracey replied grudgingly and coldly with a shrug of her slender shoulders. In response, Snape nodded his dark-head while Tracey continued to watch him through narrowed eyes.

"Clearly, it isn't helping you block out the emotions of others. Perhaps you are doing something wrong," he stated, turning his attention to her as he walked around the desk. Before Tracey could do much more than open her mouth in indignation, he had quickly withdrawn his wand causing her mouth to fall shut and her body to tense as her eyes widened a fraction. "Go stand over there."

Tracey complied silently, her eyes glue to her Head of House as she moved to where he pointed his wand at. She stared at the man with her eyes drawn together in slight confusion, even as her body remained tense with fear. She'd heard the rumors in Slytherin about Professor Snape, about how when he was a first year he knew more curses than most seventh years. She wasn't about to cross a person like that.

"I want you to do your exercises, Miss Davis. Close your eyes, clear your mind, let go of all your emotions," he said. Tracey merely stood staring at his wand, which he still held in his hand as he stared down at her.

"And what will you do?" she asked, noting with irritation that her voice wavered slightly, while eyeing the black wand he held in his hand apprehensively.

"I will attempt to break through your barriers," he replied.

"Why?" Tracey couldn't help asking, her eyes snapping up to look at him at this. Professor Snape huffed in impatience as he narrowed his gaze on her.

"To test your ability to block others. If you can not master Occlumency, I don't see how you will ever achieve the capability to block out the emotions of other's," he retorted impatiently, and not allowing Tracey to ask anymore questions as he raised his wand and pointed it at her. "Now, prepare yourself."

Tracey tried to do as she was bid, but could not find it in her to close her eyes. Professor Snape's mouth fixed itself into a straight line as he glared down at her, taking it for defiance. However, after a few moments, "_Legilimens_!"

Tracey hadn't had enough time to do what she had been asked before she felt the room swim before her eyes only to replaced by scenes from her own memory. Her argument with Blaise flashed before her, just as she was launching herself at him... Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy were sneering down at her at Daphne's party... Mr. Malfoy was talking to her mother on Flourish and Blotts before turning his gaze to sneer down at her... her mother was reeling her hand back...

_No_, Tracey thought as the shame and indignation washed through her. _You will not see that, _she thought to herself in desperation as she quickly redirected her memories forcefully, the first memory to pop into her mind being inexplicably the moment she and Theodore sat outside the Greengrass' hedge-maze. She focused with all her might on keeping that memory at the forefront of her mind, though she could feel some kind of tugging in her mind.

Forcing down all her emotions, she tried to focus on the tugging sensation in her mind, trying to pull it in another direction. She could feel beads of sweat sprouted on her forehead as she tried to keep that memory while simultaneously trying to pinpoint the intruder.

However, before she could find it, she was jolted back to the office when a sharp pain shot through her knees. Blinking, she found herself on her hands and knees, panting on the floor of her Head of House's office. Trying to regain control of her breathing, she shakily got to her feet and tried to understand what had just happened. There was a dull throbbing in her head as she lifted her gaze to stare at her Professor who also seemed a bit short of breath.

"For a second year, you did remarkably well. There are many adults who would not have been able to even redirect their memories to keep someone from seeing more painful ones. However, the real objective is to block your mind completely," Professor Snape managed to say coolly, despite the deep breaths he took. "For a first attempt, it was more than just adequate."

Tracey reached up and touched her head, furrowing her brow as she realized that the struggle in her mind was about to give her a head-ache. "Why is that so much more... forceful? When I do Legilimency it feels nothing like that."

"How does it feel for when you do it, Miss Davis?" he asked archly. For a moment, Tracey was at a loss. She wasn't sure how to explain it exactly.

"It's more... fluid and not, painful," she said hesitantly at last, still unsure about her word choice but feeling that that would simply have to suffice.

"Because when it is carried out in _this_ fashion, it _is_ forceful. It is against your conscious volition and I am actively prying and searching through your mind. I take it when you do it, it is done unconsciously on your part and without the other person knowing any better, and you are only accessing the thoughts at the forefront of the person's mind," Professor Snape explained. Tracey nodded thoughtfully in response to this. It made sense. "You need more practice and the only way to do so, is to have someone testing your barriers."

Despite the throbbing in her head, this seemed to bring her back to the reality of the situation. Narrowing her eyes on Professor Snape, she glared up into his dark eyes. "I don't want to be taught by you!"

"Miss Davis, you forget yourself. I am your Head of House, if I so chose, I could have you expelled for your continuous insolence," Professor Snape hissed at her. Tracey shut her mouth and clenched her teeth as she continued to glare at him.

"That doesn't give you the right to invade my mind without consent, _sir_," Tracey responded quietly as she ducked her head.

"Miss Davis, your learning to control your powers as an Empath are just as important as your learning to control your magic," he snapped in turn coldly. "You will find, that even outside the walls of this castle, that is very difficult to find a master Occlumens willing to teach you this skill. Occlumency is a very obscure branch of magic, and not just anyone is capable of it. If you wish to continue, stumbling around blindly with it, be my guest. But in the future, I will not be so lenient with any mishaps that occur as the result of you being unable to control your powers as an Empath."

Tracey grit her teeth as she attempted to keep from crossing her arms over her chest in petulance. She couldn't really afford to be expelled and she wasn't willing to take the risk of betting on her powers not somehow influencing her actions in the future as they had in the past. It was difficult enough to deal with her own emotions, dealing with the emotions of others was not a good scenario and she knew that sooner or later, another scene similar to the last would occur.

As much as she loathed having to depend on Professor Snape for anything, she didn't think she had much of a choice. And if the choice really were between Professor Snape and Professor Dumbledore, she would rather pick Professor Snape because while Snape was a Slytherin, he was still one of Dumbledore's pawns. A man who had a Slytherin for a pawn was a force to be reckoned with and one that Tracey was unwilling to hand her life over to.

She only hoped as she nodded her head, that she'd actually be able to get something good out of surrendering her pride.

**TBC...**

**Review!**


	17. Book 2, Chapter 7: Embedded In My Chest

**A/n:** Thank you to everyone who has taken the time to review! I really love hearing from you guys and your thoughts on what is going on in the story!

* * *

**~X~x~X~**

**The Wallflowers**

**~X~x~X~**

**Book 2: Chamber of Secrets**

**Chapter 7:**

**Embedded In My Chest and It Hurts to Hold.  
**_(Night Time- The xx)_

September and October passed dreadfully slowly for Tracey. She and Blaise were still on the outs, not speaking and as Theodore had to divide his time between both his friends, Tracey found herself spending more time than she would have preferred with Daphne and as a result, Pansy as well.

It didn't really help that she now had Occlumency lessons with Professor Snape every Monday after dinner for an hour, or that Professor Lockhart was a complete idiot, whom most of the female student body seemed to be in love with. Spending as much time as she was with the girls in her year and house, Tracey found it impossible to get away from the swooning and was usually at her wit's end by the end of the week.

"I wish you would just put it behind you Tracey," Theodore commented as they made their way out of the Great Hall after dinner as the Halloween feast finally arrived; they were amongst the last to exit as Theodore had held her up, she guessed to talk as Blaise had already gone ahead with Draco and his two goons. "He didn't really mean anything by it, and it's really the sort of thing you will deal with the remainder of your years in Slytherin, at the very least."

"And that makes it okay? He threatened me!" Tracey replied incredulously, unable to believe that her friend was actually sticking up for Blaise.

"Or was warning you," Theodore replied darkly. Tracey turned to look at her friend in question. However, before she could say anything, there seemed to be a commotion up ahead.

"What's that about?" Tracey asked as she watched people racing up the stairs.

Theodore merely shrugged his shoulders indifferently and continued on his way down to the dungeons. Tracey was about to follow him when Daphne ran up to her, her face tinged pink and completely breathless. "You have to come see, Tracey," she said before grabbing Tracey's arm and hauling her up the stairs. Before she knew it, she was in a crowded corridor on the second floor, panting for breath at the mad dash she'd done at Daphne's heals.

"What are you-" she started as they came to a stop in a large crowd. However, Daphne cut her off nearly shouting 'LOOK!' as she pointed to a wall. Tracey followed the long, pale finger of her friend and stared at the wall she was pointing to. Furrowing her brow, Tracey squinted at what looked like red writing.

Being at the distance away from it as she was, and trying to peer over the heads of other's, it took her a while to be able to decipher what it said. It didn't help matters that she didn't have her glasses on her to make her vision more focused. However, in the end she was able to make out the message: _THE CHAMBER OF SECRETS HAS BEEN OPENED. ENEMIES OF THE HEIR, BEWARE. _

At first, Tracey was unsure what that was referring to. It took her a few moments to recall _Hogwarts, A History _and the legend of the Chamber of Secrets. If she remembered correctly, the Chamber of Secrets was a secret room in the castle that Salazar Slytherin had created, where supposedly he had left a monster to 'finish his work' of keeping the school free of undesirable students. Though, she wasn't quite sure if she was remembering all that correctly. She was sure she was missing something.

"That's not funny," Tracey murmured after some time, barely aware of the teachers shoving their way through to the crowd to get close to something that Tracey could not see. Her stomach was clenching... she was forgetting something and she was starting to feel anxious as she continued to stare at the message overhead.

"You think it's a prank?" Daphne asked.

"How could it be anything else?" Tracey asked, not really wanting to think about that. She didn't want to believe that the Chamber of Secrets could truly exist. Or that the heir of Slytherin could have truly come to open it and unleashed some sort of monster out to get non-purebloods.

Before Daphne could respond, Pansy was standing before them. "We have to get back to the common room, we don't want to be found here," she stated imperiously before grabbing both girls by the arm and pulling them down towards the dungeons and for once, Tracey found that she agreed with the brunette with a bob. As far as the whole school was concerned, the only people they'd think capable of a prank of this caliber, would be a Slytherin.

**XxX**

For the following couple days, Tracey found herself avoiding the Slytherin common room. Since the message on the wall had been discovered and word got around about what happened to Filch's cat, things had been especially tense in Slytherin. It was almost as thought a line had been drawn and they were left to pick sides, those that were like Draco and delighted in the message, and those like Tracey felt afraid.

However, the only other place Tracey had felt comfortable was the library an that was no longer an option or an appropriate place to hang out. The library was crowded with people researching anything they could on the Chamber of Secrets and people from other Houses kept sending her hateful, suspicious looks.

She'd even once been cornered in the library by a group of Ravenclaw, fourth year girls intent on picking on her. Being younger and outnumbered as she was, there was nothing that Tracey could do and she was sure she was saved from a very nasty and painful encounter only by the appearance of Melinda Blackthorn and a couple of her friends.

The second time she had been caught unaware and cornered in a corridor by three third year Hufflepuffs, she'd had the misfortune to be saved by Blaise. Grudgingly, she'd had mumbled a thanks, to which Blaise had merely told her, that she should be even more careful now the message had been written, before walking away.

Tracey had been so confused and distracted by this, that she couldn't stop thinking about it for days and days. She didn't understand why Blaise gone through the trouble of helping her, if they weren't friends and weren't even speaking to each other these days. She couldn't stop thinking about that thing Theo said either, implying that perhaps Blaise was simply warning her.

Also, the mounting fear that most of the castle felt, was severely affecting her. She could hardly sleep anymore, and she was having nightmares again. Most of them involved some monster lurking in the dark, but they seemed to combine with the nightmares she had of Quirrell. Most nights, she woke panting for breath covered in a cold sweat. However, she'd once woken screaming.

Tracey was rather surprised that the following days, it wan't all over the common room that she had been screaming in her sleep. She'd thought surely that Pansy would be spreading it around, especially as she had been so vexed when her sleep had been disturbed and had called Tracey a nutter. Grudgingly, she felt thankful to the usually loud-mouth girl for not spreading _that_ around as she remembered the humiliation she experienced the previous year.

When the first Quidditch game of the season came in mid-November, Tracey was surprised and pleased as it was the first time she had really seen Gemma Farley in quite some time. Like the previous year, the older girl had dragged Tracey out of her bed and out of Slytherin, down to the pitch. "Where have you been?" Tracey couldn't help asking.

"I've been super busy with Prefect duties this year, especially since Halloween night," Gemma replied as they made their way. Tracey wasn't sure why, but she felt that Gemma wasn't telling her the whole truth. However, she didn't have much time to contemplate it as they finally made it to the Quidditch pitch and she was once more overtaken by the excitement of the crowd and let herself be taken over by it.

She was coming to find, that perhaps coming down to the Quidditch games could become something of an addiction to her. "Is this always going to be the case, with Potter?" Tracey wondered aloud as she watched a Bludger chasing after Gryffindor's seeker. Gemma couldn't help laughing at this, despite the dangerous predicament.

"Perhaps... I think you may have a long seven years in store for you, Trace," Gemma replied as she clapped and cheered along with the rest of their housemates as Slytherin scored again. Tracey grimaced at the thought of this. "Did you hear? The Hufflepuffs think that Potter was behind the petrification of Filch's cat and the writing on the wall."

Tracey shook her head at this, wondering how the Hufflepuff's could be so stupid. However, she was distracted as Slytherin scored once more. Bouncing on the balls of her feet, she couldn't help screaming and cheering at the top of her lungs along with the rest of her housemates. She felt the rush of excitement in her veins like electricity, and felt joy bubbling from within her like nothing else in her life before.

Yes, she could definitely become addicted to spectating Quidditch games.

**XxX**

"Did you hear about Collin Creevey?" Daphne asked the following Tuesday morning as they were filing out of Transfiguration and heading towards Defense. Tracey shook her head, though her mind was still caught up in their lesson. Professor McGonagall had them turning animals into water goblets. For once, Tracey had not been the first to transform the animal into the desired object as she had been too distracted by the animal itself.

She'd never noticed this before, but she had found that animals felt different to her than humans did. Their sentiments were very... simple and hardly noticeable at all. Their emotions, if they could even be classified as such seemed much less... evolved, it seemed only revolving around fear, calm, or hunger and perhaps lethargy. She had been so preoccupied with wonder at this, that she hadn't been able to concentrate on the lesson at hand.

"Who's Collin Creevey?" Tracey asked as she and the rest of the Slytherins walked together in a tight knit group to their next class.

"First year Gryffindor, he's been petrified," Pansy replied callously, as she was walking on the other side of Daphne and apparently had been listening in. Tracey furrowed her brow and looked over at Daphne for confirmation. The blonde girl merely nodded sadly, her eyes alit with worry. "We can't really be afford to be seen with the likes of _you_. Can't have the heir of Slytherin thinking we're blood traitors, blood traitors are as bad as mudblood's," Pansy suddenly went on before grabbing Daphne by the arm and walking faster to get away from Tracey.

Tracey stopped in her tracks and watched in almost shock as Daphne allowed herself to be dragged away sending her an apologetic look before turning around. Tracey stood absolutely still as her heart thudded painfully in her chest.

"Soon you won't have any friends at all. Keep your head down," a voice murmured to her. In her daze, it took Tracey a few moments to realize that she was staring at the back of Blaise Zabini's head as he walked away from her. Theo had his head in a book as he walked beside him, seemingly oblivious to the world around him, but Theo was never oblivious and Tracey had a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach that Blaise was probably right.

**TBC...**

**Review!**


	18. Book 2, Chapter 8: No One On My Side

**A/n: **As always, thank you to those who have been thoughtful enough to review. I love hearing from you guys!

**~X~x~X~**

**The Wallflowers**

**~X~x~X~**

**Book 2: Chamber of Secrets**

**Chapter 8:**

**It's A Bad Dream, No One On My Side.  
**_(A Bad Dream- Keane)_

Monday evening found Tracey once more in Snape's office, in their "detention". Their Occlumency lessons were only once a week, as Professor Snape said that she was still too young to have her mind taxed overmuch with such lessons. Since they had started, Tracey had not progressed over much. She could still at times detect Professor Snape in her mind, but she could not yet locate him or shove him out, much less keep him out, _period_.

However, with so much on her mind lately, this evening's lesson was not going at all well. She was having a hard time concentrating and could not for the life of her even detect her Professor. She couldn't even muster up the capability to focus her thoughts. They were so scattered and the events since Halloween all kept playing in her mind.

It didn't help that the only person really talking to her anymore was Theo, and his presence wasn't quite what it had been. While once his presence had been soothing, as he was always so serene, lately even he was on edge. Though why that would be so, didn't really make much sense to her. Theodore was a pureblood, the son of a known Death Eater of repute, and he never really cared what anyone thought. But even he was afraid and worried and Tracey didn't know or understand why.

For her part, she couldn't help being concerned about what happened to Collin Creevey. While Mrs. Norris being petrified was a bit concerning, because what could possibly do that to a cat? No one liked Mrs. Norris. But Collin was just a little first year. Who would want to hurt a first year, just because he was muggle-born?

She felt a gnawing sense of worry as images flashed before her eyes at almost dizzying speeds that almost made her feel nauseous. Professor Snape was burrowing deep into her memories, having already gone past all her increasing concerns about her second year and had accessed painful memories of life at home. The years of mostly benign neglect form her mother and even coming up to the first few months after her father's abandonment. Presently she was witnessing a memory of sitting on the stairs while her mother packed up the majority of their pictures on the mantle, the sense of numbness that belonged to the memory making her feel a cold that had nothing to do with the low temperatures of the dungeons.

"Miss Davis, get out! You are just waisting our time seeing as you cannot bring yourself to concentrate," Professor Snape snapped at her as she, for the fourth time that evening, found herself on all fours on the dungeon floor with pain shooting up from her knee. However, this time she had barely managed to catch herself on her forearms and she felt like her head was about to split open.

She rested her damp forehead on the cool stones of the dungeon floor for a moment a she attempted to catch her breath. Her head was pounding awfully that it completely made her forget about the cold and the pain in her knees. Shakily, she got to her feet and lifted her gaze to look up at her Potions Master who was staring at her with a look of exasperation and impatience.

"It's hard to concentrate with everything going on, _sir_," she added the last bit as an afterthought as she reached to touch her head gingerly. Her tone came out a bit more snappish than she meant it, and belatedly she hoped that Professor Snape simply chose to ignore it.

As per usual, Professor Snape offered her a small vial containing a solution to help with her headache, which she usually got by the end of the lesson. Tracey grudgingly took it thankfully and drank it quickly. The soothing, cooling sensation that passed over her was almost immediate, give or take few seconds after ingesting it.

"All the more reason to discipline yourself. Life is full of distractions, if concentrating were easy, anyone would be capable of it," Professor Snape replied snarkily as she handed back the vial. He took it without saying anything as he went on. "I would like you to continue practicing clearing your mind and letting go of all emotions. You're dismissed to go now."

Tracey didn't have to be told twice and was quick to exit. Despite now having had Occlumency lessons with Professor Snape now for nearly three months as they were nearing mid-December, she was still not overly fond of the man nor willing to forgive his betrayal of her trust. She knew that perhaps she was being irrational, but it had been very difficult for her to trust him with the sensitive information and he had betrayed her trust. Sure in the end, it had helped a little, but she felt that perhaps he should've first discussed going to Dumbledore with her before he did anything.

Though she did respect the man; for everything that he did for everyone in her house. She even, perhaps, admired him a little. It was simply hard to deny that Professor Snape had a certain _presence_ to him. Besides that, he was clearly brilliant, very talented where Potions were concerned. The fact that he was an Occlumens and Legilimens seemed to only make him all the more impressive.

Pushing these useless thoughts out of her mind, Tracey found herself outside the Slytherin Common Room. Staring at the stretch of wall, she tried to remember what was this fortnight's password. The Slytherin password was reset every two weeks.

"_Semper purus_," she stated, which she knew was latin for 'always pure' as she had looked it up in the library, something she was in the habit of doing whenever she didn't know the origin or meaning behind the password.

When the stretch of wall remained unmoving, Tracey looked around herself making sure she was in fact at the entrance of Slytherin. Noting that she couldn't have made a mistake, as in her first year she and other Slytherins of her years were given extensive tours of the dungeons, she turned to look at the wall once more expectantly. A thought crossed her mind, which had Tracey groaning.

That morning, she'd gone to the notice board in the common room to check for the new password as she was quite sure it was about that time for it to be changed again, but found that there was no new password. She recalled commenting to Theodore that it seemed that someone had dropped the quaffle, though it wasn't the first time, as the sign-up sheet had yet to be posted as well for those who were going to be staying for the holidays at the castle. Belatedly, she wondered if the Prefects had reset the password after dinner.

Turning around, Tracey made to return to Professor Snape's office, much as she loathed the idea of it because she was sure he'd look down at her like she was an idiot. Honestly, she didn't feel like dealing with Professor Snape anymore than she already had, especially as he was in such a foul mood after last Thursday's incident in Potions when Goyle's potion exploded and drenched half the class with a Swelling Solution.

Tracey was one amongst half the class to get splashed and need the Deflating Draft from Snape who was livid when he pulled out the remains of what looked like a firework from Goyle's cauldron. Then again, no one was really in a good mood after that, and Tracey was lucky as she had only gotten a couple drops on her hand, which had swelled to the size of their potions book. Still unpleasant, but not as bad as what happened to Draco.

She hadn't taken many steps away from the entrance of Slytherin when she heard someone coming up the hall. Looking up, she stared in mild confusion and irritation as she spotted a familiar red-head boy walking over to her, making large and furious strides. As her gaze looked at the Gryffindor crest on his chest, she found herself scowling slightly and crossing her arms over her chest.

"And what are you doing here? Causing trouble again?" Percy Weasley asked as he stopped in front of her, while speaking in a snappish yet superior tone.

"I was about to ask you the same thing. What are _you_ doing in the dungeons?" Tracey asked, feeling very offended to have a Gryffindor in Slytherin territory and who was acting so pompous as if _she_ was the one that had no right to be in this hall.

"I'm a Prefect," he stated in a manner and tone that nearly had Tracey snorting in amusement. It was just the way he said it, as though being a Prefect gave him the right to do anything he pleased and made him overlord of the castle. "Now what are you doing here and why aren't you in your House?"

Tracey was not about to explain her predicament to the insufferable redhead before her. "That's none of your business, and it's not even curfew yet, so if I want to wander the halls I can," Tracey replied in the haughtiest tone that she could manage while looking up defiantly at the older boy.

Percy Weasley went very red in the face and was about to open his mouth and say something when the sound of footsteps nearing drew both of their attention. Tracey looked past the tall, Gryffindor boy who turned in the directions of the approaching footsteps. Tracey noticed out of the corner of her eye how his body seemed to tense and his hand seemed to reach for the pocket of his robes. It was a mere moment later when the figure emerged from the shadows, showing Gemma Farley's familiar face.

"Weasel, what are you doing here?" Gemma asked in a cold, unfriendly tone Tracey was unfamiliar with in the elder girl.

"It's Weasley!" the boy spat indignantly, losing any cool he had.

"Whatever," Gemma said disinterestedly with a shrug, her attention still on the redhead as she moved around him to stand next to Tracey and putting her hands on Tracey's slender shoulders. Despite how calm and indifferent Gemma appeared, what Tracey felt coming from the older girl when the girl touched her, told a whole different story. A sentiment that was white-hot and unfamiliar to Tracey filled her in that moment. It was like anger, yet somehow different, as it made your stomach feel like it was heated and churning simultaneously that it made you feel physically ill. "Move along. I've got the dungeons covered, and I'll handle Tracey."

Percy seemed contemplate this for a moment before turning on his heel and marching away angrily. Tracey fidgeted under the touch of her friend and when the redhead was out of sight stepped away from her and turned to look up at the older girl who had a stormy look in her eyes. The older girl shook her head and huffed, still looking in the direction the Gryffindor had taken his leave.

"Did you get locked out?" Gemma asked, flashing Tracey a smile that did not quite reach her eyes when she finally turned her attention to the younger girl. Tracey nodded her head, as she stared questioningly at the Prefect. "Higgs and Blackthorn have been a bit remiss in their duties. I've told them to reset the password and put up the sign-up sheet for people staying at the castle after dinner today," Gemma commented as they walked towards Slytherin. "Pureblood."

Tracey looked at Gemma with a raised brow as the entrance to Slytherin opened. She raised a brow at the older girl standing beside her who looked down a bit sheepishly. "Jugson and Higgs thought it would be amusing," Gemma replied with a shrug of her shoulders, referring to her fellow Slytherin Prefects, as they walked into Slytherin together. "I'll see you, Tracey."

Tracey furrowed her brow as she watched the older girl walk away and wondered why Gemma's spirits seemed a bit dampened of late.

**XxX**

A notice for a Dueling Club had been put up in a notice board in the Entrance Hall. Tracey wasn't very enthusiastic about attending, but she figured she may as well attend. After all, she'd never really seen a Duel before, nor participated in one and she figured that she might retain useful information about it.

So that evening, Tracey found herself in the Great Hall, standing amongst a group of her fellow Slytherins though feeling very much alone. Looking about herself, she spotted Theodore standing a few feet away with Blaise, near Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle. They all seemed bored, though Tracey knew that for the most part it was a facade as she was near enough to feel their joint excitement.

If she looked past them and just a few feet further past the boys in her year she spotted Daphne, Pansy and Millie. As was usual, Pansy seemed to be in the center and chatting away, while Daphne giggled at something she said or merely shook her head indulgently.

Tracey forced herself to look away when she felt the familiar gnawing at the pit of her stomach and looked towards where the stage had been erected. All the House tables had been removed, and Tracey felt as though the whole student body was in attendance, as all their chatter created a buzzing sound. Despite the cloud that seemed to have fallen over the school since Halloween, this was the warmest the castle had felt since. It was almost like this simple Dueling Club meeting had erased everyone's fears.

A groan almost escaped her lips as she watched Lockhart and Professor Snape take to the stage. "Gather round, gather round!" Lockhart called as he waved his arm for silence. Tracey felt people pressing her to get closer to the stage, someone shoving her a bit harder and causing her to fall forward, catching herself on the back of someone's robes.

The person in question who's robe she tugged on turned around. The boy was rather tall, and a bit broad with an athletic build. Tracey was quite certain she had seen the boy a couple of times in the Slytherin common room and was quite certain he was only in the year ahead of her, despite his height.

"Sorry," Tracey mumbled as the older boy scowled down at her, his thick black brows contracting over dark grey eyes. His dark hair was mildly curly, but wasn't very long. His curls seemed to be spiked up, though the spikes weren't straight and actually looked a bit more like barb wire. He had a brutish look about his face, made more apparent as he scowled down at her.

"Watch it you little twerp," he growled down at her. Tracey tried to take a step away from the older boy who was clenching his hands into fists. Not being able to step away form the intimidating and much larger boy, Tracey curled her own fist tighter around the handle of her wand and tried to ignore the waves of anger, hate and all-around maliciousness that seemed to come off the boy.

"I said I was sorry," Tracey retorted, trying to keep her voice from shaking. She wanted to look around and see if anyone was around to help her. However, she didn't want to take her eyes off the boy before her.

"Why you little-" the boy started, when suddenly someone shoved him in the shoulder. Turning his head, the boy glared at the boy standing next to him. "What?" he barked irritably at the boy beside him.

Tracey stole a quick glance at the boy who had drawn the other boy's attention from her. This boy was more slender than the one threatening her, but he was also taller than him. His features were much finer and handsomer, though they were unbelievably haughty. The boy had what looked like very dark, fiery red-hair that fell straight and just past his shoulders. Presently it fell loosely about him, split a little more to the left than being split straight down the center as Tracey's was.

"They're about to start, Montague. You don't want to miss it, picking on a little girl," the boy responded, casting a snide glance down at Tracey. Tracey tried to keep from glaring at the boy who had inadvertently saved her as he continued to stare at her with ice-blue eyes, looking her over. "Besides, I think she's in our House. Snape will have your skin if you pick on someone who is not only in our house, but also younger than us."

Tracey frowned slightly at this. She knew Montague was in the year ahead of her, and on the Slytherin team. As she looked at both boys, who seemed to be over five feet and a half, she wondered at the fact that they were third years. They certainly looked much too tall to be third years, and Montague looked far too large; although, if he had been held back, she wouldn't have found it surprising.

Montague merely growled in response before shooting Tracey another glare and finally turning around. Tracey took this opportunity to slip away from the hostile older boys. She made sure to keep herself surrounded by Slytherins though, as she moved. She figured she'd be a lot safer amongst her own, than she was amongst the other Houses.

When she finally settled herself amidst of group of Slytherin girls, first years from the look of it, she found that she had missed quite a bit and wasn't quite sure what was going on. The next thing she knew, Professor Snape was crying "_Expelliarmus!_"

A flash of violent red exploded from his wand and sped towards Lockhart. It hit him square in the chest and blasted him off his feet. He went flying through the air and crashing into a wall before falling in a puddle of plum-purple on the floor. Tracey's eyes widened at the sight and she couldn't help the small amount of glee she felt to see the narcissistic fool be tossed about like a rag-doll. She found herself clapping and cheering along with the rest of her house-mates.

Not long after, Tracey found herself nervously awaiting to be paired. Professor Lockhart spotted her and was quick to pair her up with Morag McDougal, a girl in her year in Ravenclaw. The girl had curly, nearly untamable, bright-red hair that fell just past her shoulders. She was a couple inches shorter than Tracey, and had deep blue eyes and a fierce expression on her face.

Morag was a bit of a tomboy, Tracey found as she eyed her up and down. However, she was one of the few Ravenclaws that Tracey could tolerate as she wasn't always showing off in class, and Tracey was quite certain her grades were merely average. However, Morag was a bit more outspoken than other Ravenclaws and not quite timid in the least. Tracey sometimes wondered if Gryffindor wouldn't have been a better fit for the scottish girl.

However, it seemed that the feeling wasn't quite mutual as Morag was glaring up at her, her pointed chin jutted out defiantly. However, Tracey wasn't standing near enough to feel exactly what the other girl was feeling. Besides, it would have been drowned out by the general excitement that was flooding the Great Hall.

"Wands at the ready!" shouted Professor Lockhart from wherever it was he was. Tracey was quick to imitate Morag who was looking at her intently as she raised her wand into position. "When I count to three, cast your charms to disarm your opponents- _only_ to disarm them- we don't want any accidents- one... two... three-"

Morag McDougal had quicker reflexes than Tracey did. Before Tracey was able to react, the other girl had already cast her spell. Fortunately, she didn't have the power that Professor Snape seemed to, and the spell only caused Tracey to stumble back a few steps, though her wand had slipped from her hand. When Tracey had regained her footing, she found Morag looking at her with smirk.

Tracey ignored the shorter, Ravenclaw girl and looked about her for her wand. "Looking for this?" Looking up, Tracey found that Morag had already picked up her wand and was waving it absently while continuing to smirk at the Slytherin girl.

"Obviously," Tracey couldn't help retorting as she walked over to the other girl and reaching her hand out for it. However, Morag pulled it out of reach. "I'm not playing this game with you, McDougal," Tracey stated as patiently as she could muster. However, her patience was wearing thin. She didn't know what McDougal's problem was, she'd never done anything to the Ravenclaw girl and frankly didn't understand her present behavior.

"What game? I'm not playing a game," Morag replied, feigning innocence, her scottish brogue somehow making her tones sweet like honey and almost sincere. However, her fierce blue eyes showed too much of her delight at teasing the taller, Slytherin girl.

"Give me MY WAND," Tracey stated, her voice becoming louder with her increasing annoyance.

"Or what?" Morag challenged.

Tracey wasn't sure how to respond to that. A part of her wanted to reel her fist back and let Morag's face have a good one. However, she could still recall the derisive voice of her Head of House on the last occasion she had resorted to physical violence. Because of that one slip up, she was stuck with months of Occlumency with Snape. She didn't particularly feel like having a repeat.

"Just give me my wand!" Tracey demanded impatiently, ignoring the pandemonium about her and Lockhart uselessly shouting at everyone to stop what they were doing.

Morag merely continued to smirk. However, she was then approached by Padma Patil, who whispered something in her ear while shooting a glance at Tracey. Tracey furrowed her brow, wondering what this was about as the smirk on Morag's face fell off.

"Here, this was getting stupid anyway," Morag stated, tossing Tracey her wand before spinning on her heel and marching off with Padma Patil. Tracey scowled as she barely caught her wand and watched as the two girls walked away, making a mental note as she seethed to get Morag back one day.

**XxX**

Harry Potter was a Parslemouth. Tracey felt her mind reeling at this. She certainly didn't expect _that_! She guessed by the chatter that surrounded her as she and all her House Mates were making their way down to the dungeons after the first and rather disastrous end to Dueling Club, that they didn't either.

It seemed that many had gotten the impression that Harry Potter was the Heir of Slytherin and behind all the attacks at school. However, as Draco had surprisingly pointed out boisterously in the Slytherin Common Room, there was no way it was _Saint Potter_. He was best friends with a _mudblood_ and a _blood-traitor_.

However, the fact that he could speak Pasletongue, a language only Salazar Slytherin and his descendants were known for, well it did make one think. And it had rather seemed that he'd been egging the snake on.

When Tracey heard that Justin Finch-Fletchely, the Hufflepuff Potter was supposedly attacking, turned up Petrified along with the ghost of Slytherin, Tracey felt the panic that surrounded the school as people speculated what could have possibly done _that_ to the ghost. For the life of her, Tracey couldn't think of anything at all that could do that to someone who was already dead and Tracey had never felt more relieved at the opportunity to get out of the castle, even though she didn't feel like facing her mother. Somehow, that now seemed easier than spending yet another week in school.

**TBC...**

**Review!**


End file.
